Almeria's castle; or, My early life in India and in England

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niiiiiiiii

600060076P

ALMERIA'S CASTLE;

OS,

MY EARLY LIFE IN INDIA AND IN ENGLAND,

LONDON :
GILBERT AND RIVINOTON, PRINTERS,

ST. John's sciuare.

>

I

ALMERIA'8 CASTLE;

OB,

MY EARLY LIFE IN INDIA AND IN ENGLAND.

BY

HENRIETTA LUSHINGTON,

ATJTHOB OP "HACCO THE DWAEF," "THE HAPPY HOME," &C.

*' Sorrow may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning/

Wiiili SbeUre. ^llmtxvdiam.

LONDON:
GRIFFITH AND FARRAN,

SUCCESSORS TO NEWBERY AND HARRIS,
COBNEB OF ST. PAUL's CHUBCHYABD.

MDCCCLXVI.

J2S'^ ' /H^ . :2dr6/.

gtiifatti

TO

ETTA AND AGNES.

- ' v.-
t 1

CONTENTS.

CHAP.

I. Colaba ....

•

•

PAQE
1

II. The Lighthouse

•

. 24

III. Malabar Hill

• «

. 41

IV. Miss Clay . .

•

. 54

V. Salsette ....

•

. 77

VI. Oorabunder and Elephanta .

■ 1

. 101

VII. Fever Dreamn

•

. 121

VIII. Khandalla and Poonah

I «

14f)

IX. The Bride . . . . .

•

175

X. Bombay . . . . .

•

1^5

XI. Aden, the Desert, and Cairo

«

212

XII. The Great Sorrow . . . ,

1 «

233

XIII. Mysteries . . . . .

«

259

XIV. News from Alar . . . .

«

287

ILLUSTRATIONS.

c-^

PAGE

Colaba Lighthonne .......

I

The Evening Drive — Miss Clay recognized

. 74

Salsette ...•••.•

77

Gorabunder ........

101

Khandalla ........

121

Scindia's Castle .......

. 175

The Old Pedler displaying his Wares . . . .

. 180

Eennery Island .......

195

The Parsee Wedding— The Boy Bridegroom falls asleep .

. 206

Cairo ........

. 212

A Scene in the Mosque of El-Azhar

. 228

Gibraltar ........

. 233

/

i OTJ are always asking for more stories, chil-
dren : why should I not write out for you
aome recollections of my own early life,
which, though not very eventful, was yet
very unlike your bright and happy childhood ? If I
amuse you, well and good. If I weary you, I will:bum
the manuscript, and there will be no harm done.

The first scene that I can recollect with any dis-
tinctness, as I look back through the long vista of past
years, occurred when I must have been about seven
years old. My home was then in Colaba, a long narrow
islet, joined to the island of Bombay by a causeway at

.>!

S - ■

COLABA. d

man, whom even tropical heat could not render lan-
guid; and she was half servant, half companion to
my poor sickly mother, making herself useful in re-
turn for her board, for I don't think she received any
salary. My mother was always ill, and my father
went every morning into the Fort to his business, which
kept him away all day, so I hardly know what would
have become of us without Mrs. Armstrong, though her
busy ways and strict notions often fretted a spoilt child
such as I was then. It was my father who spoiled me.
In the early morning I went out with him on the
rocks below the lighthouse; we breakfasted together,
he listening the while to my childish prattle, and de-
fending me from the lectures of Mrs. Armstrong, who
came in and out to fetch my mother's tea. Almost
every day I could have cried, as I watched him carried
away in a hired palkee towards the Fort; and my
greatest daily joy was to see him return in the evening.
I sat beside him at dinner, and shared his meal, in
spite of Mrs. Armstrong's opposition ; and in the cool
of the evening we strolled out together on the rocks,
or as far as the great landing-place, or on the grassy
esplanade. As fiar back as I can remember, my poor
mother was always ill, and Mrs. Armstrong kept me
out of the way, lest I should disturb her ; so I had to
find my own amusements all the day. I had no toys,

B 2

ALM£RIA*S CASTLE.

except a few leaden figures that our younger servant had
moulded for me, and a waxen baby which my father
had brought me one happy day, and which, in spite of
its jaundiced complexion, I believed to be a model of
beauty. Now and then I was allowed to creep on tip-
toe to my mother's bedside and kiss her poor pale face,
or exchange a few whispered words with her; but
most part of the day I passed alone.

Such was the state of things at the time which I re-
collect with some degree of clearness ; and the events of
one night especially come back to me, as if they had
occurred but yesterday. My mother was worse than
usual, and Mrs. Armstrong, after imdressing me and
putting me into my little bed, with the mosquito-net
carefully tucked in all round it, returned to my
mother's room to sit up all night. My father was
writing in the sitting-room. He had been grave and
silent all the evening, and I had heard him say he
should not go to bed. The house was very still, and as
I lay awake, I heard my father at long intervals creep
to the sick-room, and then return to his task. I could
not sleep : I grew more and more restless and nervous,
till at last I sat up in the bed and looked about me.
There was a dim light from a tumbler within which a
wick floated in cocoa-nut oil, in a distant comer of the
large room. The sea-breeze stealing in through the

COLABA.

closed jalousies, shook the white drapery above Mrs.
Armstrong's bed, till I almost fancied some living thing
was there. I looked up to the great beams of the roof,
and round on the rude plastered walls, and down on
the matted floor. Now and then bats flitted in and out,
silent and rapid as thought ; and here and there a
musk-rat would creep out of his hole, and glide along
close to the wainscot. These were sights to which I
was well accustomed, but on this night I was strangely
nervous. I watched one, two, three, four rats stealing
about the room, and I thought of a story my father had
been telling me : how the lower part of the house
belonged to Bandicoot, the Rat-King, who wore a gold
crown, and held his court in a room on the ground-floor;
and how every rat in the house (and there were my-
riads) was obliged to appear nightly before the king
and make his salaam.

The story had amused me very much as I sat on my
father's knee after dinner, and I had clapped my hands
at every fresh rat that appeared, and shouted, " There's
another of King Bandicoot's men, papa ! " But I did
not like it so well now in my loneliness, and the thought
of King Bandicoot filled me with foolish terror. Now
and then, too, I heard old Ali muttering in his sleep
in the verandah below my windows, and this was a
sound that always alarmed me ; so that it needed only

6 almeria's castle.

the flapping of a door in a fresher gust of the sea-breeze
to mate me utter a loud scream, that brought Mrs.
Armstrong at once to my bedside, full of ire.

" What in the world is the matter. Miss Clarissa?" she
said. " How can you be so unfeeling as to frighten your
poor mamma in this nonsensical fashion? There, lie
down, do, and go to sleep, and let us have no more noise.''

It was not pleasant to be scolded, but it would be still
less so to be left alone again with my terrors, so I went
on crying quietly, still sitting up in my bed. Presently
another voice spoke —

" Never mind, Mrs. Armstrong, don't scold her," said
my father. " If you will go back to Mrs. Grantham, I
will take charge of this naughty child, and see that she
makes no further disturbance." Mrs. Armstrong stood
still yet a few moments to remonstrate, but the mos-
quito-net was already flung aside, and I was in my
father's arms, clinging to his neck, with my cheek
resting on his, and feeling as if I could defy the whole
world. It was but a waste of words to interfere now,
so the good woman walked away, and my father sat
down on a chair beside the bed.

" What are we to do now. Clary?" he said. " It really
is a very imreasonable hour for you to be awake, and I
should like to know what made you squeal like a little
sick cat. Just tell me what was the matter, won't

COLABA. 7

you P Whisper it into my ear, and I won't tell Mrs.
Armstrong."

It was not easy to put my trouble into words, but,
after a little further persuasion, I managed to say, — " I
was frightened .... and there was a noise .... and I
thought . . . I thought it was King Bandicoot coming in."

" King Bandicoot ! " laughed my father ; " why, Clary,
I never thought you could be such a little goose ! We'll
set a trap to-morrow and catch King Bandicoot, and
you'll see that he is nothing but a large grey rat. I
must never tell you any more stories, if you are to be
such a silly little girl."

"I knew it was all a story," I said, hanging my
head, " but I couldn't help being frightened."

" WeU, you're not afraid now, at any rate," he said ;
" do you think you can go to sleep P"

"Oh no, no!" I cried, clinging still more closely to
his neck ; " I am not sleepy. I can't go to sleep."

" What am I to do with you then. Clary, you very
troublesome little girlp I was just going to cool my-
self on the rocks, and now here I am with a clog round
my neck."

" Take me too," I said eagerly ; " take me out with
you, dear, darling papa ! "

" That's not a bad thought. Clary," he said, as he
rose and wrapped the light coverlet from the bed round

8 almeria's castle.

me; "we will go out together; but what will Mrs.
Armstrong say to us P'*

" I don't care for Mrs. Armstrong," I said boldly ; " I
only care for you, good papa, kind papa."

He laughed as he kissed me ; and then we set forth.
First we looked into the sick-room, and saw my mother's
white face as she lay dozing quietly, with her watchisr,
(grave and disapproving at sight of me,) seated beside
her ; then we passed down the creaking stairs, and out
from the close, darkened house into the full blaze of
tropical moonlight. We were soon settled on the rocks
below the lighthouse, silently enjoying the welcome
freshness of the breeze and the stillness that was only
broken by the soft wash of the waves on the shore. I
grew tired of silence at last, and ventured to disturb
the thoughtful mood that had crept over my father.

"Why do you look so at the moon, papaP" I said;
" what are you thinking about P Please talk to me."

" I beg your pardon, Clary," he said with a smile, as
he turned his looks to me ; " I had almost forgotten you
were here. Do you want to know what I was thinking
about ? I'U tell you. I was thinking how the moon,
that very same moon you and I see there, used once
upon a time to shine into a chamber in a beautiful castle
far away ; and I was wondering what the moon would
see if she were to peep into that chamber now."

COLABA. \f

" Tell me about it, please," I pleaded, for I dearly-
loved a story ; " whose chamber was it P what was it
like?"

" It was unlike any room that you have ever seen,
Clary. There were rich flowered curtains hanging at
the window, and on the floor was a carpet so thick and
soft that no tread could be heard upon it. Against the
wall stood a little bed with snow-white drapery falling
down to the crimson carpet ; and in this bed, night after
night, slept a little boy, whose delight it was on moon-
light evenings to have the curtains drawn back, that he
might, as he lay in bed, watch the moon riding up the
sky, and see the bright colours of the coat-of-arms on
the window-panes, reflected in paler tints on his white
bed. No rats, or bats, or Bandicoots came to disturb
him. Shall I tell you what used to come, Clary ?"

"Yes, do, papa," I said eagerly.

" At a certain hour every night, though the boy was
not always awake to see, the door of his room was softly
opened, and some one came in and stood at his bedside.
It was a strange little figure, not larger than a child of
twelve or thirteen years, but its face was not young,
and certainly not handsome. The nose was very long,
the eyes^ere very small, but the mouth could some-
times smile graciously and sweetly. The dress this
figure wore was always black, and on its head was a sort

10 almeria's castle.

of cap made of black velvet, and bordered with fur, below
which were seen short black curls of very glossy hair.
With a pair of very small, very white hands, this
strange figure would smoothe the boy's pillow or arrange
his bedclothes ; but, even if he were awake, he dared
not speak a word of thanks, because he knew he should
be blamed for not being asleep. In a few minutes the
figure glided away as silently as it had come."

" Who. was it, papa P what was it ?"

" It was the Fairy-Princess to whom the castle be-
longed. The boy had no father or mother, and this
fairy had taken him to live in her castle. She was
very kind to him in many ways. She gave him a
black pony with a whitfe star on its forehead, and she
rode with him, teaching him to leap over hedges and
ditches, till he was as fearless as herself. She used to
ride a tall white horse, and she wore a long black skirt,
and a velvet cap, so that wherever she went people knew
it was the Fairy-Princess. ' Her castle stood on a hill,
with old trees scattered singly or in groups on its green
slopes; and below the hill was a lake where swans
floated to and fro, and made nests among the reeds.
The fairy loved to row herself about the lake in a
pretty green boat; or sometimes she would '^spread a
sail, and glide from shore to shore. She would take
the boy with her in the long summer days, and teach

COLABA. 11

him to catch fish with nets in the lake; or wander
away by a trout-stream below the hill, and give him a
lesson in managing a rod and Une. She taught him to
shoot at a mark, too; and in winter she made him
skate with her, as she flew over the ice like a fairy as
she was. All these open-air exercises made the boy
grow tall and strong, so that at twelve years old he was
bigger than the fairy herself."

"What was the fairy's name, papa?" I asked.

" Her name was Almeria," he replied, after a mo-
ment's hesitation.

"Almeria!" I repeated in surprise. "Why, papa,
I am named Clarissa Almeria. Was I called Almeria
after the fairy?"

"Never mind. Clary," my father said, speaking
hurriedly; "that does not come into our story. Let
us go back to that. Where was I ?"

" You did not tell me what the castle was like where
the fairy lived," I remarked.

" I could hardly tell you that. Clary, for you have
never seen any thing like it, and your poor little head
could hardly imagine such a large, grand abode. It
was not a bit like the poor tumble-down place, all alive
with rats, where you and I live. The great arched
door opened into a hall with carved ceiling, and beyond
this were rooms adorned with mirrors, and gilded

12 almekia's castle.

furniture, and damask hangings, where the fairy some-
times entertained guests. It was a fine sight to see the
castle lighted up on those occasions. The windows
were all ablaze, so that people knew for miles round
that the fairy was feasting her friends; and the re-
flected brightness on the lake frightened the swans and
made them hide away among the reeds. On these
occasions the fairy still wore a black robe, but it was of
the richest velvet ; and, instead of fiir round her velvet
cap, there was a border of splendid diamonds, and her
little white hands were almost hidden with glittering
rings. She did the honours gracefully, as a fairy should
do them, and her smile of welcome was unspeakably
gracious and winning."

" "What did the boy do, papa ?"• I inquired.

" The boy sat on her right hand at table," replied
my father, ^' and ate dainties off a golden plate like the
rest. Fresh fruits and dried fruits, heaped in dishes of
cut crystal supported on golden stands, were placed on
the board, interspersed with vases of choice flowers;
and over all shone a thousand lights. The gay dresses
of the ladies, their silvery laughter, and the buzz of gay
conversation, delighted the boy, and he remembered
those feasts for many a long day afterwards. He was
not older than you, Clary, when he was first allowed to
sit at the board, on the fairy's right hand. What

COLABA. 13

would Mrs. Armfltrong have said to such doings?
Before that time^ he used to lie awake in his little bed,
listening to the unusual sounds, or watching the reflec-
tion of his coloured window creep along the wall till it
fell on his coverlet. By and by the wheels of the de-
parting guests would roll away down the hill, and
presently the door of the boy's room was opened softly,
and the fairy would glide to his bedside, and stand a
moment there, with her diamonds flashing and spark-
ling like stars, and then she passed away as silently
as she had come. But the fairy did not go to rest
then, late as was the hour. I have not told you. Clary,
of the greatest of all the gifts that this strange being
possessed. She was such a musician as I suppose only
a fairy can be. In that little body there dwelt a voice
so rich and sweet, that, when she chose to exert it, the
largest of her noble rooms was filled with the exquisite
sounds. Those hands, that looked so small and feeble,
could move with such cunning and power over the
keys, that they melted the heart to softness or thrilled
it with delight at the fairy's will. But she seldom
exercised her great power by day. It was at night,
when all was still in the castle, that she loved to repair
to the organ-gallery above the great hall, and play her
weird music, till the sound rolled through the long
passages in great floods of harmony. After any of her

14 almeria's castle.

feastsy she was sure to do this ; and one night, when
the boy was a very little child, the music stirred him
with such strong force, that he rose from his bed, and
crept barefooted to the opening of the gallery, whence
he could see without being seen. The great lamps had
all been extinguished, and only a pair of wax lights
twinkled faintly close to the keys of the organ. But
the moonlight floated in through the tall uncurtained
windows, mapping the panes on the marble floor, and
making the hall seem of vast proportions. The fairy
stood at the organ, moving the bellows with her tiny
foot, as she played full rich chords^ now and then sing-
ing a few words in a voice that swelled with unearthly
sweetness above the accompaniment. It was a strange
scene, Clary ; the fairy, with her eyes glittering almost
as brightly as her diamonds, singing her wonderful
music in that shadowy hall. The boy stole back to his
bed at last, trembling with excitement rather than
with cold."

"Is the fairy Almeria alive now, papa?" I asked,
after a pause. " Shall I see her when we go to
England?"

" Never, I think. Clary," replied my father. " The
fairy Almeria still lives in her castle, but she must be
old now, if fairies can ever grow old, and I don't think
you will ever see her."

COLABA. 15

"And the boy," I continued, "what became of the
boy ? Does he live with her now ?"

" No, Clary, he has not seen her for years. The boy
was sent to school and to college, always passing his
vacations at Almeria's castle ; and in due time he grew
to be a man. And then, Clary, and then — there
happened a sad quarrel between the fairy and her
quondam darling, and she told him she would never see
his face again."

" Oh ! papa, do tell me how it was ! " I cried.
" Why did they quarrel ? What did the boy do ?"

"Clary," replied my father, "I think I have re-
marked to you more than once, that you have a trick
of asking two or three questions in a breath. Mrs.
Armstrong has made the same remark."

" Oh yes, papa, I know, I know ; but please don't talk
about that now, when I want so much to hear about
the boy. Why did he quarrel with that wonderful
fairy P"

" I hardly know how to explain it to you. Clary,"
my father said. " Both parties had very strong wills.
The fairy thought he ought to obey her in all things ;
and the boy, when he became a man, thought she ought
not to dictate; and at last he committed an act of
disobedience that she could not forgive, and so they
parted."

16 almekia's castle.

"But what did he do?" I persisted. "Was it very
wrong, papaP"

" (Two questions again, Clary !) This was how it
happened: the fairy said, 'You must do my bidding
in all things : ' and one day she took him into a garden
full of brilliant flowers, and bade him choose which he
would have for his very own. But he thought them
all too gay and garish, and he turned boldly to the
fairy, and said, *No, I will have none of these that
flaunt in the sunshine. I will have a wild white lily,
that grows out of sight in the wood.' He had his way,
Clary. He gathered the white lily and carried it
proudly in his hand ; and when the fairy saw him, her
eyes flashed with anger and scorn, and she told him her
castle should never again be a home for him, and that
she would never more see his face so long as she lived.
He was angry too, and so they parted."

" And all for a flower, papa ! " I exclaimed. " What
a pity ! Where did the poor boy go then P"

" He took his lily in his hand. Clary, and sailed away
over the sea ; and his flower drooped, and his life was
sad, and the fairy and her castle seemed to him * like
as a dream when one awaketh.'"

" Oh, papa," I cried, for I had entered heart and soul
into the story, and believed every word, "couldn't he
go back, and ask her to love him again P"

COL ABA. 17

" No, Clary, that could never be," he replied, in a
strangely solemn voice, " never, never ! But, Clary," he
continued, with a sudden change of tone, " you and I
must go back to our home, or we shall be good for
nothing to-morrow. I feel the land-wind beginning to
blow, and if it makes you ill, what will Mrs. Armstrong
say?"

We took a last look at the moon, the rippling water,
and the tall lighthouse, and then my father carried me
into the house, laid me on my bed, tucked in the mos-
quito-net as carefully as Mrs. Armstrong could have
done it, and sat by my bedside till I fell asleep. My
dreams that night were full of the fairy Almeria, who
thenceforth was the theme of many of my father's
stories. I believed every word. It was all unlike my
daily experience, but then it happened in England,
that land of wonder over the sea, where marvellous
things must of necessity occur. England was fairy-
land to me.

Meantime the days passed on, bringing little change
in my mother's state ; and my father was more occupied
than ever. It was now the early part of the cool sea-
son, and the mornings and evenings were delightful.
The strolls at day-dawn with my father were prolonged
till the sun rose above the sea-mists, and the -distant
mountains on the mainland glowed like living ame-

c

18 almeria's castle.

tliysta in the early light. But more sadly than ever
did I watch the palanquin leave the door after break*
fast, knowing what a long, lonely day was before me ;
for my father seldom returned till night had fallen, and
I was allowed to be in my mother's room for only a
few minutes at a time, at long intervals. About five
o'clock in the afternoon, when, as Mrs. Armstrong ujsed
to say, "the poison was gone out of the sun," I usually
took my yellow doll on my arm, and went out to sit
in the shadow of the lighthouse. In England a child,
even so lonely as I was, would have found something to
play with, or would have clambered over the rocks, and
found pleasure in every diflBculty encountered and over-
come ; but I was a poor languid little Anglo-Indian, so
I only sought a seat on the rocks, and was content to
watch the fishing-boats sweeping over the water, and
the pleasure-yachts, whose white sails caught the evening
breeze ; or sometimes a stately merchantman with all
her canvas spread, or steamer with long trail of smoke
behind her, passing into the harbour, Reading was as
yet an unknown pleasure to me. My father called
me a dunce, for, with all his efibrts to teach me, I
only kjiew a few of my letters. However, I thought
over all his stories, and indulged in many a dream
of the fairy Almeria and all the other wonders of
England.

COLABA. 19

One evening I was sitting in my osual place below
the lighthouse, when some one stopped near me and
said, in a loud cheerful voice,

" Well, little woman, here you are again, all alone
and quiet as a mouse ! I often see you sitting here.
Are you Mr. Grantham's little daughter ?"

I looked up and saw that the speaker was a tall man
wearing some kind of uniform, and a pith hat that
shaded his sun-burnt face, and kind, blue, English eyes.
I had often seen him before, and knew that he was the
officer who had charge of the lighthouse.

"Yes," I replied, "I am Clarissa Almeria Gran-
tham" (for I had become very proud of my second
name, since hearing of the fairy and her castle).

" It is very lonely and dull for you here," continued
my new acquaintance. " Do you like looking at the
boats?" and when I answered in the affirmative, he
continued,

" Would you like to come up to the top of the light-
house with me P I am going there now, and you can
get a better view of the harbour a good deal, than you
do down here."

I rose and followed him up some two hundred step»,
and reached the great lantern almost breathless.

" So, so, my little maid," said my conductor, patting
me on the shoulder ; " I am afraid I made you come up

c2

20 almeiua's castle.

too fast. Rest a minute before you begin to look about
you."

I did feel confused, and looking down from that
great height made my head swim, so I turned to the
inside of the great lantern, and saw a man trinmiing
the lamps. I had thought the officer's face very much
sun-burnt, but it was pale beside this sailor's. I looked
up at him almost with fear, he waa so strikingly ugly.
He had but one eye, his nose was broad and flat, and
his mouth seemed puckered up into a perpetual whistle.
He went on silently with his work for some time, while
the officer was looking out to sea with his glass. Pre-
sently, in the course of his employment, the sailor came
close to the place where I sat, and, suddenly turning to
me with a merry twinkle in his solitary eye, said,
" Well, little missy, and do ye think you ever saw such
a beauty as Tom Stubbs before ? You've been looking
at him a long time."

"I beg your pardon^" I said, in much confusion.

"Oh! no offence, missy, no offence," he answered,
laughing ; " I'm quite used to it. But come, it isn't
time to light up just yet : wouldn't ye like to look about
ye a bit?"

At this moment the officer, whom Stubbs called
Captain Scott, laid down his glass, and, after speak-
ing a few words to Stubbs about some vessel that

COLABA. 21

was coming in, laid his hand kindly on my shoulder,
and said,

" I must be going, little maid. Would you like to
stay up here for a little while with old Tom? It's
fresher than down below, and I'll call and tell them at
home where to find you when they want you."

I agreed to stay, though feeling a little shy of my
strange companion ; and Captain Scott ran down the
spiral stairs. I suppose my looks betrayed my feelings,
for Stubbs addressed me in a voice he endeavoured to
soften till it was little more than a hoarse whisper.

" Never fear old Tom, missy. He'll be as gentle
with you as if you was a chayney tea-cup, that musn't
be touched hardly for fear it should crack. Won't ye
like to look, out? You woulda't see a finer look-out
place than this in any part of the world."

I went close to the iron rail that surrounded the top
of the tower, but again my head swam, and I closed my
eyes for a minute.

" You'll get used to it presently," continued old Tom,
kindly. " Lay your pretty little soft fingers in my
hand, missy, and you'll feel more confidence. Why, it
trembles like a little bird, I do declare," he added, as
I clasped his horny palm. "Never fear; it'll all be
over presently, and you won't be giddy, no more than
I am."

22 almeria's castle.

He was right. The giddiness soon passed off, and I
enjoyed looking round me from my elevated position,
while Tom pointed out favourite spots in the scenery
so familiar to his eyes. There was Malabar HiU, with
black rocks cropping out of palm woods; and Back
Bay, on whose shore I coidd just distinguish first the
fishermen drawing in their large nets, and then black
figures with glancing lights under the trees that grew
close to the water, and at last flaming piles that burnt
more brightly as darkness fell, and sent long streaks of
light flickering over the waves. On the other side,
beyond the harbour, with its scattered islands, I saw
the far-off chain of the Western Ghauts, with varied
peaks standing out against the sky. Before I was
tired of looking, Tom Stubbs had lighted the great
lantern, to flash out its warnings to the ships at sea, and
the heat ere long obliged me to decamp from its neigh-
bourhood.

" Come again, missy, as often as you like," Tom said,
as I prepared to leave him. "It's lonesome for you
down below there, and I'll be as tender with ye as any
old hen with her downy chick. It's a treat to me to
see a little one — of my own colour, I was going to
say," he added, laughing, " but your little white face
an't much the colour of Old Tom's, missy. Any ways,
I like to hear your pretty tongue talking so as I can

COLABA. 23

understand what you say, instead of the heathen lingo
most of the children talk hereabouts. Bring your papa
up here, missy, and we'll show him it's all safe and
pleasant in old Tom's nest."

I went home much pleased with my new acquaint-
ance, whom I described to my father as we sat at dinner
.together. The next morning I mounted the stairs
again, followed by my father, and we found Tom
polishing his spy-glass and whistling cheerfully. The
old sailor touched his hat and welcomed us cordially,
and my father thanked him for his kindness to me on
the previous day. It was a glorious sight to see the
sun rise over the Ghauts, the golden mists floating
away from earth and sea ; and the young day was de-
lightfully fresh and cool. I thought I should never be
tired of watching the boats come and go, and old Tom
had already contrived a seat for me whence I could see
the whole harbour, with its many masts, and its white
sails flitting to and fro.

CHAPTER II.

THE LIGHTHOUSE.

M SUPPOSE my father was pleased with Tom
Stubbs, for I was allowed to go to the
lighthouse as often as I liked during the
remainder of our stay at Colaba, and I
grew yery fond of the old sailor; vhile he, on Lis
side, was glad of the company of even a little child,
who listened to his long yams with wonder and un-
doubting faith. He had tales to tell me of wonderful
adventures by land and sea, and I have reason to think
they lost nothing in the telling. One day I mentioned
to him that Mrs. Scott, who occasionally noticed me,
bad taken me for a drive on the previous evening.
"Oh! Tom," I continued, "I saw such a strange
sight ! They were unloading a vessel from America, a
vessel full of ice. We stopped at the end of the Apollo
Bonder, and watched the men carrying it up to the ice>

THE LIGHTHOUSE. 25

house. They had great large lumps, as much as ever
they could carry, on their backs ; and the water dripped
all over their bodies, and all along the road as they
walked. Mrs. Scott said it came from a very cold
country. Why should the cold make the water hard
like stone ? "

" Well, I can't say, missy, I am sure," replied Tom,
" but it certainly do. What should you say, missy, if
I told you of lumps of that clear shining stuff, such as
you saw on them ignorant natives' backs, as big as
mountains floating along the sea? I've seen 'em all
sizes and all shapes, some with spires and points like
any church, some like clifis with cascades of bright
water flowing down their sides. Ay ! I've seen from
sixty to a hundred great ice-islands all at once, missy,
and a grand sight it was, as ever you'd wish to see."

It was quite refreshing to think of such things with
the thermometer at 80° ; and Tom, seeing that I listened
with interest, pursued his reminiscences.

" There's a many strange things I've seen and done in
my time, missy, before I came to be stooed in this place.
Once upon a time — have ye any objection to the smell
of baccy, missy P "

I replied in the negative, so he lighted his pipe, leant
against the railing with his arms folded, and settled
himself for a yarn.

26 almeria's castle.

" Once upon a time I was mate of a fisfaing-scliooner
that was hired for a yacht by a foreign gent at St.
John's, Newfoundland, to go to the Coast of Labrador.
There was the captain and me, and three hands, and we
made a fair passage, touching at St. George's Bay, and
going through the Straits of Belleisle. It seemed a
puzzle to us what the Mounseer wanted to go to those
latitudes for, but we soon found out he was what they
call a naturalist, missy, and he wanted to collect speci-
mens of birds, and beasts, and fishes, to send home to his
own country. So we hung about the coast, and fished
up queer creatures from the sea ; and some he corked
up in bottles, and some he skinned, and some he made
skeletons of; and then he went ashore and shot birds
with an air-gun, and brought them off and stuffed them,
and the same with any vermin or insects he came
across, till his cabin was like a Noah's ark, only a dead
one. There was hardly room for him to lie down in
his own berth, but he didn't seem to mind. If he
caught a fly of a sort he hadn't seen before, you'd ha'
thought he'd found a gold-mine. Sometimes I landed
with him in lonely places where 'twas as much as we
could do to force our way through the low bushes of fir
that matted their boughs together, and sent out a
pleasant smell when the sun was shining out warm.
Sometimes we came to open places where the grass was

THE LIGHTHOUSE. 27

thin and long, and little plants grew, all covered with
berries that were very good eating. Olad enough I
was to find 'em sometimes, for Mounseer never seemed
to get hungry, and he was apt to forget other people's
appetites altogether. He liked poking down by the
ponds and streams, and I didn't, for there was mos-
quitoes there as thick and fierce as I ever saw them
here, missy. All this time we had to keep a good look-
out aboard the yacht, for great ice-islands came float-
ing down from the north, and any one of 'em might
have swamped our poor little vessel. Now I'll tell ye
a funny thing that happened to me, missy, about one
of them big icebergs. It was about the biggest I had
ever seen, with two hills in the middle and a flat space
all round, just a little bit higher than the water ; and
the whole thing grounded a little way from the land,
while we were at anchor for a day or two. Mounseer
was ashore with one of the hands, skinning a big fish,
and we on board had nothing to do; so at last I
began to think I should like to go aboard the iceberg
and see what it was like, and I spoke about it to the
captain. He laughed, and said, ' Joe's just going with
the boat to bring Mounseer off: you'd better let him
drop you on the berg as he goes, and pick you up as he
comes aboard again.' 'All right,' said I, and I
jumped into the boat and made Joe row me to a low

28 almeria's castlb.

point, where I scrambled up easier than I expected, for
the ice was crusted over with frozen snow, and there
was something for the feet and hands to hold to. I
waved my hat to the captain, who was still on deck, and
he waved his to me ; and away went Joe, leaving me
there. He laughed as he went, and dared me to go
round the berg, and I shouted out that I would go long
before he came back. I was right there, missy.

" It was a lovely afternoon. There were a few white,
woolly clouds in the sky, and just a ripple over the
water, and here and there a great lump of an iceberg,
glistening like pearls and diamonds, sailing down to
the south. The little schooner lay at anchor, and not
another vessel was to be seen far or near. The low
shore looked green and pleasant where it sloped down
to an inlet, with fir-woods feathering to the water's
edge. Joe went in through the inlet, for it opened out
into a lake after a bit, and Mounseer was at the farther
end. I heard afterwards that Joe didn't find Mounseer
willing to come aboard, for his job was only half
finished, so he called Joe to come and help him ; and
they tied the boat up, and worked away for a couple of
hours, forgetting all about poor me. As to the captain,
he went and took a nap in his berth, and the look-out
man thought I was ashore with the others.

" Meantime I began my scramble, and I found it the

THE LIGHTHOUSE. 29

hardest work I'd ever tried. Smooth and shining as
it looked a little way oflF, the way round the edge of the
berg was full of holes and sharp edges that cut one's
feet like knives, with here and there a deep bed of snow
where I sank up to my waist and had a hard matter to
struggle out again. Well, missy, for two hours the
captain slept ; for two hours Mounseer skinned his fish ;
and for two hours I floundered along upon the iceberg,
and didn't get more than half of the way round it.
Luckily for me, I'd brought a pole with an iron spike
to it out of Mounseer's cabin, else I should many
a time have stuck fast by the way. As I was saying,
for two hours I toiled on, and then I stopped to take
breath and look about me. It was about six when we
left the schooner, and now it was past eight and the
sun was very low. I couldn't see him at all by this
time, for I had got round to the eastward of the ice-
island, and the two great peaks were between me and
the sunset, and a great elbow of the nighest hill hid the
schooner from me, so I felt uncommon lonely. What
should I see, to make all better, but great clouds of
white fog rolling in from the sea. The wind had come
round to the eastward, blowing strong, and I knew
what the heavy line meant. Nearer and nearer it came,
till I couldn't see the sky, or the sea, or the ice-hills, or
my own hand a'most, for the thick, white, clinging fog.

30 almeria's castle.

I'm not a one easy to frighten, missy, but my heart
seemed to go down into my shoes then, and I gave my-
self up for lost. I didn't dare move more than just a
foot or two, for fear of toppling over into the water,
and yet I got deadly cold if I stood still; so I just
poked about in front of me with my stick, to make sure
of a footing, and then moved onwards. I was very
tired and sleepy, but I wouldn't give way. There was
an old mother at home in those days, missy, — ^ay,
and a bright little girl too, — to look out for old Tom ;
and I thought of them, and knew they'd put my name
into their prayers, and perhaps were doing it at that
very minute ; so I took heart and went on. Two hours
more passed away, only two hours, and they seemed
like months to me; and then, all on a sudden, like
lifting up a veil, the fog went away, and there was the
great, round, blessed moon shining out in the sky with-
out a cloud. The tall peaks of ice glittered and glis-
tened till I could hardly bear to look at them, but I
could see my footing now, so I moved on as briskly as
I could, to get a view of the schooner, for I felt sure
the captain would send a boat for me soon. Just as I
came in sight of the vessel, I fancied I heard a noise
somewhere near, and presently something seemed to
move in the shadow close under the hill. 'It's Joe,
God bless him ! a-looking for me,' thinks I ; and I put

THE LIGHTHOUSE. 31

my hand to my mouth, and shouted out that there I was,
all safe and sound ; and then I scrambled on again. But
no answer came to my shout, which seemed strange ;
and when I got about forty yards from the place where
I'd seen something move, there it was again, coming
out from the shadow of the hill into the bright moon-
light. Just think how I felt, missy, when I saw, instead
of Joe, a great white bear stepping softly over the ice,
with his great head swaying, like this, from side to side,
as he walked. I hadn't much time for thinking. If
the be^ir were as hungry as I was, there'd soon be little
enough of Tom Stubbs left. On he came, with his long
silky hair sweeping over the ice, and a low growling
kind of noise now and then, as if he was talking to him-
self about the good supper he'd have presently. I
thought, nat'rally, missy, that it was all up with poor
Tom, when all on a sudden it flashed through me that
I'd heard bears wouldn't touch a man if they thought
he was dead, so down I lay with my face on the ice,
never moving so much as a finger, and trying to hold
my breath. It seemed a long time before the beast got
up to the place where I was, but that was nothing to
the time he stayed sniffing all round me, and poking
me with his cold nose. Minutes seems as long .as years
sometimes, missy, and that was just my case now. I
fancied he'd hear my heart beat, and find me out, and

32 almeria's castle.

swallow me promiscuous ; but he was only a poor stupid
brute after all, so he let himself be cheated, and at last
he moved away, a-growling softly to himself as he went,
as if he was grumbling at being baulked of his meal.
I didn't dare stir for ever so long, and indeed I was
almost dead with the fright and the cold; but as I
strained my ears to listen, I couldn't hear any more of
the bear, but I fancied I heard the sound of oars. I
lifted up my head gently and looked round. The bear
was out of jsight behind the hill ; but just coming out
of the inlet, there was the boat with Joe, and Mounseer,
and Will Stokes. Oh ! but that was a blessed sight,
missy ; they had been kept ashore by the fog all this
time, but now the moon made it as bright as day, and
they were all looking out for me ; so I stood up, and they
soon saw me and gave a hearty cheer. They rowed to
the point where I'd landed in the evening, and I was
soon sitting in the boat, telling 'em all my adventures.
Mounseer was all alive about the bear. 'We'll have
him ! ' he said, ' we'll skin him ! we'll make a beauti-
ful skeleton of him ! To-morrow we'll have a great
bear-hunt on the iceberg ! ' However, missy, Mounseer
didn't have his way. As we got near the schooner I
was sitting staring at the iceberg, feeling very queer,
when all on a sudden it began to move. The tall sharp
peaks shook, and then dipped down into the sea. The

THE LIGHTHOUSE. 33

great mass turned right over and floated away to the
south. 'Twas an awful sight, a wonderful sight,
missy, and the noise that came with it was like thunder.
The water was disturbed as far as we could see, and all
covered with foam. We never said a word to one
another, but watched, with our mouths open, while the
great thing sailed away, till we could see it no more."

"And what became of the bear ?" I inquired.

" I can't say, missy," replied Stubbs, with a smile.
" Perhaps he saved himself by swimming, and perhaps
the fishes made a skeleton of him, instead of Mounseer.
Anyways, I never saw him again.*'

Such were the tales with which the old sailor beguiled
the time when I visited the lighthouse, and no doubt it
was agreeable to him to meet with a listener who never
thought of disputing his facts. The tales of his prowess
in war were quite a& wonderful, in their way, as the
specimen I have given of his more peaceful adventures ;
but he painted scenes of horror in colours too strong
and vivid for my taste, so -I will not repeat them here.

I can truly say that the happiest day of the week to
me was Sunday, for on that day I had most of my
father's company. In the morning he sometimes took
me with him in the hired palanquin, which was his only
mode of conveyance, to the cathedral, where, however,
the service was read, nok ehanted]^ aa in cathedrals at

34 almeria's castle.

home. I was too young to understand mucli of what I
heard, and I am afraid I looked about me most part of
the time I was there. The marble monuments were a
study for me, and I looked with curiosity at the pews
where the grandees of the place sat in state in arm-
chairs ; gay scarlet and purple uniforms on the gentle-
men, and brilliant dresses on the ladies. Then there
were punkahs all down each side of the church, moved
to and fro by ropes passed through the wall to natives
outside; and these punkahs never moved in time to-
gether, and I could not help watching them, till they
produced the very natural effect of sending me to sleep.
I usually woke as we were getting into the palanquin
to go home. The rest of the day was very happy.
When we reached our own door, the bearers placed the
palanquin in the verandah, and lay down to sleep in
the shade while we dined, and after dinner Mrs. Arm-
strong, arrayed in a black siljt gown, and white China
crape shawl,— carefully preserved relics of better days,
— descended with dignified step, entered the palanquin,
and was carried away to attend afternoon service at the
cathedral. On her way back, she used to spend an
hour or two with a friend, so we were freed from her
company for the afternoon, and my father took charge
of the sick-room. This was delightful to me, for he
scorned Mrs. Armstrong's theory of my society being

THE LIGHTHOUSE. 35

injurious to my mother, and I was allowed to stay
beside her, and talk to her without hindrance or re-
buke. ThuLS I could tell her all the adventures of the
past week, such as they were, and she listened, with my
hand in hers, and a smile on the sweet white face, that
I always thought more lovely than any other face I
ever saw. By and by my father would read to her
Psalms, and passages from the Bible, and prayers ; and
then he took me on his knee and showed me a book of
Sunday pictures, and explained them to me in simple
language that I never forgot. The happiness of the
day was complete if Mrs. Armstrong remained away to
drink tea with her friend, for then my father and I had
our tea in the sick-room, and I carried to and fro my
mother's cup and saucer, and the cake that she would
try to eat for our gratification.

I had many a tale to tell her on these occasions, of
my hours passed in the lighthouse, and the wonderful
adventures related to me by Tom Stubbs. One day,
after I had been repeating his account of a battle he
had had somewhere in the West Indies with a shark,
one of whose teeth he still carried in his pocket; my
father said : —

"Now it is my turn to talk. Clary; and I've been
keeping a bit of good news for you these two days, that
I might tell it just now."

D 2

36 almeria's castle.

Of course I looked up eagerly, and he continued,
speaking more to my mother than to me, " One of my
brother clerks at Conway's has lent me his house on
Malabar Hill for three months, and we can move into it
on Tuesday, It is a nice place, Lucy, and God knows
how thankful I shall be to get you out of this hole, even
for a time,"

"But you, dear?" my mother said anxiously. "It
will be so far from the fort. What will you do ?"

" Claxton leaves his horse and buggy for me ; so I
can take you for a drive when you like, besides using
the animal for my own purposes. I shall ride or drive
in every day.'^

''Then it is delightftil news, is it not, Clary P" said
my mother, with brightened looks. " How long it is,
Ernest, since I have seen you on horseback."

" Long, indeed ! " he repeated, in a tone so grave,
that it startled me, and made my mother shrink and
look nervously at him; but the next moment he had
taken me on his knee, and was asking what I had to
say to the new plan.

"I like it very much," I replied, "only I wish
Tom Stubbs could go too."

" Poor little Clary ! " he said ; " you will miss your
old friend. We'll ask him to come and ' spin a yam *
sometimes at the other house. King Bandicoot will

THE LIGHTHOUSE. 37

have his palace to himself now, Clary, and I hope we
mav never come back to the old bam affain.'*

I liked the thought of change, but it was not all
joy on Monday evening, when my father went with
me to the lighthouse to take leave of old Tom. For
four or five weeks I had gone almost daily up to
the lantern, and had always been cordially welcomed
by the old sailor ; and now I was to go there no more.
Tom looked gratified when my father said we hoped to
see him at Malabar Hill.

" Thank'ee kindly, sir," he said, pulling the thin lock
of grey hair that hung over his eye. "I'll be proud to
come. Lord, sir, you might think an old fellow like
me, knocked about the world from his cradle, might
have got to be as tough as leather, heart and all, and
so I thought I was. But, bless ye, sir, the sick lady
over there don't listen for little missy's voice more
eager than I do. When I hear the little feet a- coming
up the stair there, I feel a'most no-how ; and how I
shall ever get on without her, I'm sure I can't say,"

" She will miss you very much, Mr. Stubbs," rejoined
my father ; " and if we ever come back to Colaba, she
will soon find her way hither again."

" You'll be heartily welcome, little missy," Tom said,
looking kindly at me ; then, turning to my father, he
added, "I made bold, sir, to ask Captain Scott for a

I

38 almeria's castle.

day's leave to-morrow, in case I might be useful, help-
ing you in your move. I didn't know but what you
might be glad to have some one to help you carry
madam down the stairs, and I've a good strong pair of
arms still. I hope you won't think it a liberty, sir."

" That I shall not," replied my father warmly ; and,
accordingly, Tom was at our house the following day,
packing our goods, and making himself useful in a
thousand ingenious ways. Our small stock of furni-
ture was despatched quite early, followed by Mrs.
Armstrong in a palanquin; and at five o'clock my
mother was conveyed down-stairs, with Tom's assist-
ance, and placed beside me in Mrs. Scott's carriage,
lent to us for this occasion. My father mounted to the
box, and so we left our home to the rats and bats, Tom
striding along behind us with vigorous steps. The
drive was full of amusement for me. We passed the
barracks, with a few soldiers drilling on the green in
front ; the Esplanade, now in part covered with a little
town of tents. and temporary houses, among bushes of
the castor-oil plant ; and a crowd of carriages full of
gaily -dressed people, assembled round a pavilion where
a military band was playing ; then through the busy
bazaar and the quiet country roads, till we swept past
the sea-board and up the slope of Malabar Hill. The
gate of a compound just on the brow of the hill stood

THE LIGHTHOUSE. 39

invitingly open; we entered, and, passing through a
garden gay with flowers, stopped at a bungalow of two
stories, with a deep verandah shading the. lower
windows. By some means Tom Stubbs had made his
way hither before us, and was the first to give me
welcome.

" A nice place, missy," he said, " a sweet pui'ty place,
ma'am ; and I hope you'll all have your health here."

It did, indeed, seem like another world. The air was
far cooler and fresher than in the lower ground, and
my spirits rose as I breathed it. WhUe they laid my
mother on a couch that Mrs. Armstrong had wheeled
into the verandah for her, I flew hither and thither
to take a survey of our new dwelling. There were two
sitting-rooms below, and a bedroom, which would of
course be my mother's; and up-stairs was Mrs. Arm-
strong's room, with my little bed in the corner, besides
two or three chambers, more or less furnished, not
required for our use. The views all round the house
were lovely, and I rejoiced to find that, across Back
Bay, I could see the lighthouse where I had spent so
many happy hours. I was so rampant with the sense
of novelty and freedom, and the freshness of the hill-
air, that I needed several checks from Mrs. Armstrong,
before being tamed down sufficiently to sit at the table,
and partake of the early tea she had prepared for us.

40 ALMEBIA*8 CASTLE.

As soon as the meal was over, I was in the garden
again, watching the flames which rose here and there
along the shore of Back Bay, and understanding, for
the first time, from a few words dropped by my father,
that on those flaming piles under the dense palm- woods,
the nindoos were burning their dead.

CHAPTER ni.

MALABAR HILL.

3 OR a week from this time, my mother
waa BO much better than usual, that I
had hardly time to miss old Tom. I shall
never forget the mornings passed in that
sweet garden, * where flowers that are the pride of
English hothouses, grew in rich profusion. There
were double pomegranate blossoms of dazzling scarlet,
jessamines covered with large snow-white stars, creep-
ing plants of every colour, bell-shaped blossoms that I
fitted on my fingers and called "fairy foolscaps," and
convolvolus- flowers of piuk and blue, in which I might
have hidden my whole face. From this Paradise we
could watch the sun rise over the Ghauts, with their
castellated shapes and soft purple colours, and see the
whole space of sea and land between us and them,
gradually kindle into light and beauty.

But by and by my mother drooped again, and once

42 almeria's castle.

more I was condemned to pass long hours in solitude.
There were drawbacks to our Paradise too. The house
was as full of rats as the one we had left, and moreover,
when darkness fell, myriads of frogs came hopping in
from the garden at every window. These last even
made their way into the upper rooms, and no place was
secure from them ; and, though they were harmless,
yet it was not pleasant to touch them accidentally, or
to feel it necessary to pick one's way across the room,
lest one should crush them. There were fearful
rumours of snakes also, and I saw a hooded cobra that
Ali and my father had killed before breakfast one
morning in the verandah.

It was now December, and Bombay was very gay.
I sometimes saw carriages filled with brightlyrdressed
ladies, and gentlemen in uniform, pass our gate on their
way to some party; but my father seldom had an
engagement, and we lived as quietly as we had done at
Colaba.

One evening I had been watching the gardener
watering the plants, and I was wondering where I
could find a fresh amusement after he had finished his
task, when I caught sight of a white kitten frisking
among the bushes. Here was a plaything come in the
very moment of need, and the pretty creature coyly
met my advances, and beguiled me to a part of the

MALABAR HILL. 43

garden close to the boundary wall of our neighbour's
compound. She was trying to seize, with teeth and
claws, the comer of my pinafore, as I gently shook it to
tempt her nearer to me, when I heard a rustling sound,
and, looking up, saw a lady watching me from the
other side of the wall. I stood still, and gazed in
return, for I had not often seen so pleasant a sight as
that lady's face, with its kind smile, and the English
bloom not yet faded from the rounded cheek. She
was dressed in black, and wore a black hat over her
golden hair, and she struck me as the tallest woman I
had ever seen.

"Is that your kitten P" she asked, pointing to my
little playmate.

"No," I said, "I don't know whose it is. I found it
playing here."

"Then, I think it belongs to my cousin," she re-
joined, " for there is a whole army of white cats and
kittens running wild about this place. You may have
that one for your own if you can keep it, but you had
better tie a collar round its neck, or you will not know
it again."

I thanked the lady warmly, and carried my new
treasure into the house, fetched milk for her to drink,
and adorned her neck with a scarlet ribbon. By the
time all this was done, my father had come home, and

44 almeria's castle.

I did not go out again till the moon was up; when,
leaving my kitten asleep, I went with him down the
broad road towards the shore, where we lingered long,
watching the tide steal over the low black rocks.

The next evening, when the kitten and I had raced
and romped together till we were tired, and she lay
curled up asleep, looking like a tiny heap of snow on
the path, I again saw the lady in black standing by the
boundary wall. Her smile was so pleasant, that I
nodded, as to an old friend.

" Well, little girl," she said, " are you alone again
this evening P Have you no playfellows P"

"Not alone to-day," I answered, pointing to the
kitten. " Oh ! I've had such a happy day with her,
and I'm so much obUged to you for giving her to me ! "

"You are easily made happy, my child," the lady
answered. " I am a bigger child than you, and I have
no kitten of my own, so I have been feeling very
lonely, and I thought I would come and see if you were
in your garden. What beautiful flowers you have
there ! Do you like flowers ?"

" Oh ! yes," I answered, " and we had none where
we lived before."

" I should like to show you my Guernsey lilies," said
my new acquaintance; "don't you think you might
climb over this low wall P "

MALABAR HILL. 45

"But what am I to do with my catP She might
wake up and run away," I suggested; but catching
sight, at the moment, of Ali lounging in the verandah,
I called to him to have an eye to the kitten, and to
give an account of my whereabouts to Mrs. Armstrong,
should she inquire for me; then, giving my hand to
the lady, I soon scrambled over the wall, and stood be-
side her in a field that would have been green in Eng-
land, and probably had been green enough during the
rains, but was now covered with dried-up brownish
grass.

" Before we proceed," said the lady, " it seems to me
fitting that we should know each other's names. Will
you tell me yours ?"

" My name is Clarissa Almeria Grantham," I replied,
with the pride I usually felt in making the announce-
ment.

" Allow me to pay the tribute of respect due to the
bearer of so long, so euphonious, and so magnificent a
name," said my tall companion, with mock gravity,
curtseying down to the ground ; then, seeing me shrink
with a child's natural dread of ridicule, she continued
in a playful tone ; " I am almost ashamed to tell you
what a poor short little name mine is. I am called
' Anne Clay.' Now give me your hand, little Clarissa,
and we will go and look at my lilies. We will keep to

46 almsbia's castle.

the path to-day. Sometimes I go across the grass, but
my cousin constantly warns me I shall some day be
bitten by a snake, so I will not run any risks with
you."

We crossed the field to the higher ground, whence the
whole of the compound was visible. It was a large
enclosure, thickly planted in parts with trees, and there
were six or eight low-roofed bungalows scattered about
it, some of them connected with each other by covered
ways. One of these contained reception-rooms, another
was set apart for accidental guests, a third contained
the sleeping-apartments and dressing-rooms of the
master and mistress of the family. All this Miss Clay
explained to me ; '^ and that," she continued, " is the
children's bungalow, where my three tiny cousins live,
but just now the little creatures are gone, all beflounced
and bedizened, to take a drive with their mamma ; so
you must wait for another opportunity to see them.
Come this way, and I will show you my own bun-
galow."

This was next to the children's ; and tethered close
to it was a gazelle, evidently a pet, for it came up to
Miss Clay fearlessly. She called to a servant to bring
some bread, and the pretty creature ate from her
hand, looking somewhat anxiously at me now and then
with its large dark eyes. " This is my pet, little Cla-

MALABAR HILL. 47

rissa/' Miss Clay said, as the gazelle bent his head ca-
ressingly to her hand. *" He is a little shy of straiigers,
especially since he was frightened by some dogs a
few days ago. I had a pretty antelope, but the jackals
killed it one sad night, and it was buried under that
tree. Now let me show you my rooms.'* I followed
her into her little bungalow, where, in days to come, I
was to spend some of my happiest hours ; and I could
not repress an exclamation when I saw a room very
unlike, in its tasteful and elegant arrangements, any
thing I had ever seen before. There were pictures on
the walls, representing shady pools, ivied churches,
rural mills, with great mossy wheels plashing in cool
rivers ; scenery such as I had never seen in my life, but
of which I felt at a glance the freshness and beauty.
The furniture was of the Bombay blackwood, very
richly carved, and adorned with gold-coloured damask ;
and a Persian carpet was laid over the matting on the
floor. On the table were a number of books, with all
the appliances for drawing and work; and a small
pianoforte stood open, with music on the desk. Miss
Clay watched my enjoyment with a smile, and did not
interrupt my curious examination of all her property.
At last I turned to her. " Is this beautiful room really
yours ?" 1 asked.

" Really mine, now," she said, with something like a

48 almeria's castle.

sigli ; '' and this door opens into my bedroom ; and
there my ayah sleeps ; and so, you see, this is quite my
own house. It is all very nice, I know, but I have not
been here long, and every thing seems new and strange
to me. I shall like it in time, I daresay ;'' and she
sighed again.

I looked at her with wonder, but she seemed for a
few minutes so lost in thought as to have forgotten my
presence ; so I resumed my inspection of her pictures
and statuettes. By and by she laid her hand on my
shoulder and said, " I see you like looking at pictures.
All these are views near my old home that I have left,
and these little ornaments were in my room at home in
England. That is why I love them. The new home
can never be like the old one,"

Now, the only change of abode I could remember in
my own case, had been very much for the better, and I
never thought with regret of the tumble-down house
at Colaba, though I might sometimes wish to revisit
the lighthouse in its neighbourhood. But then Miss
Clay had come from England, that fairy-land of my
imagination, and therefore a little reflection made me
understand her regret. A sound of wheels in the com-
pound roused Miss Clay, who had again fallen into
a reverie. "Come, Clarissa," she said, "I hear my
cousins returning, and I should like you to see them."

MALABAR HILL. 49

I felt very shy as I followed her towards the prin-
cipal bungalow, and still more so as we stood under the
Terandah in front of it, and saw a carriage driven to the
door, preceded by two running footmen in gay liveries.
I tried to hide myself behind Miss Clay as the party
dismounted from the carriage; first an ayah, with a
moon-faced baby enveloped in embroidered muslin;
then a pair of twin girls about three years old, bright
as humming-birds, with cherry-coloured plumes and
sashes ; and then the mamma, in flowing robes of green
silk, and with a whole garland of roses in her bonnet. As
I watched them, I was conscious for the first time in my
life, with a pang of false shame, that I was poorly clad,
and I felt a longing desire to make a rush homewards,
only that I was doubtful of the way. Meantime the
twins had foimd me out, and were trying to pull me
forward, gabbling all the time in Hindustani, of which
language I understood but little. They were short, fat
children, with pretty features and flaxen hair, and the
colourless cheeks almost universal where seclusion from
sunshine is a necessity of the climate. They were also,
like all Indian children, untroubled with any shyness,
and I fancied they were making remarks on me very
freely, judging by Miss Clay's anxiety to hush them.
She tried to defend me from their persecutions, but her
words of remonstrance were few.

60 almeria's castle.

** I have no chance with these magpies, Clarissa/' she
said, laughing ; " they can't speak my language, and I
can't speak theirs, so my scoldings are of very little
avail. You must take your own part, and tell them they
are very rude."

"It doesn't matter," I said, "I don't know what
they mean, except a word now and then."

" Why, what little girl have you got hold of, Anne ? "
said the lady in green, whom I knew to be Mrs. Farrer ;
" does she mean she can't speak Hindustani P How in
the world came she here P "

Miss Clay told my name, and how she had made my
acquaintance ; and I, on being questioned, said that I
had had very little to say to any body but my parents
and Mrs. Armstrong, by my father's special desire.
Mrs. Farrer exclaimed, " What a queer fancy ! " and
then addressed Miss Clay again, leaving me to my
small tormentors.

" I am glad you have found something to amuse you,
Anne, as you wouldn't go with us. It really was a pity
you were not at the band. Every one was there, and
the music was beautiful."

" Thank you, I was better here," Miss Clay replied
quietly ; then taking my hand she added, " I think I
must take you away from my roly-poly cousins, now,
Clarissa."

MALABAR HILL. 51

I answered, "Oh! thank you/' with an eagerness
that made her laugh. "There, go away, S/Osa and
Emily," and she tickled them into convulsions of laugh-
ter, and left them rolling helplessly on the floor, while
she led me -away. All this time we had heen in the
verandah, still lighted by the sun's latest rays. Miss
Clay took me through the drawing-room, where the
lamps were already burning with a brightness that
dazzled me, and made me pause on the threshold with
an exclamation of astonishment. In truth, I had never
seen or imagined such splendour, and it seemed to me
a realization of Aladdin's palace. My companion
seemed amused. "It is a pretty room, is it not?" she
said, " and our Parsee butler understands how to light
it."

A pretty room, indeed ! It seemed to me a scene of
enchantment, and I passed out into the dusky twilight,
quite bewildered with its splendour. Outside the bun-
galow were ranged a number of flower-pots, but the
colours of the flowers were no longer distinguishable,
except that one or two aloes seemed to make their tall
pyramids of bells visible by their own pure whiteness.
Again we crossed the path to the boundary wall, look-
ing out sharply, lest every twig in our way might prove
to be a snake. I began to think I had been absent
from home a long time, and to fear Mrs. Armstrong

E 2

62 almeria's castle.

might take occasion to reprove me, so it was with no
small relief that, as I prepared to climb over the wall
with Miss Clay's assistance, I saw my father step out
from the shadows.

** Papa, papa," I cried, ** I have been with Miss Clay,
the lady that gave me my little cat."

He lifted his hat as he thanked Miss Clay warmly
for her kindness to his solitary little girl; and she
assured him, in reply, that the benefit had been mutual.

" I love children," she added, " and my ignorance of
Hindustani prevents my winning my way with most
of the little things here. I hope you will let Clarissa
come to me again."

" You are very good," he said, " you know not how
great a kindness you will be doing her. May I ask,".
he added, as Miss Clay prepared to leave us, " whether
you are related to a dear old friend of mine at Oxford,
unheard of for years now, Everard Clay of Balliol P"

She clasped her hands together, with a low cry, and
then said, in a trembling voice,

" Ah ! he was my brother. It is for him I am wear-
ing this black dress."

" I beg your pardon," my father said, greatly dis-
tressed. " I had no idea .... pray forgive me."

'* I am so glad you have told me," she replied. " My
cousins never knew him, and I so often long to speak of

MALABAR HILL. 53

m

him. And you .... ah ! your name is Grantham P
I have heard him speak of Charlie Grantham many and
many a time. I do not think he knew what had become
of you, but your name occurred in many a story of his
Oxford life. I cannot stay now," she said, as she held
out her hand, "but, Mr. Grantham, you must let me
try to be kind to the child of Everard's friend, and to
Mrs. Grantham too," she added shyly, " if I may. Will
you ask her if I may come and see her ?"

" Thank you a thousand times," my father answered,
almost with emotion ; "I am sure my poor Lucy will
gladly see you, and her life is lonely and sad. The
climate has never suited her, and she is very weak now.
A visit from you would be a real boon, and I will pre-
pare her for it."

'•'Tell. her Clarissa will bring me to her to-morrow,
if she has no objection. Oh ! Mr. Grantham, you do
riot know how glad I shall be if I can feel myself of use
to any body in the world ! I have asked myself lately
why I was here, and what good my life did me. My
heart is lighter to-night than for many a long day
past. Good-bye, little Clarissa," and she bent her tall
figure and kissed my forehead ; ** good-bye, little friend ;
you must come and see my Guernsey lilies to-morrow,
for we forgot them to-day, after all."

CHAPTER IV.

MISS CLAT.

HITS began my acquaintance with Miss
Clay. The next day I led her to the sofa
whereon lay my mother, nervously await-
ing the visit of a stranger, whose visits
ever after were to be watched for with eagerness and
pleasure. Mrs. Armstrong looked half-displeased at
first, but she could not long resist the gracious manner
and gentle words that exercised a charm upon us all.
Very soon, we scarcely knew how, it became an esta-
blished custom for me to go •every morning to Miss
Clay's pretty sitting-room to take a lesson in reading,
or any thing else she saw fit to teach me ; and, in the
afternoon, after my mother's sleep, it was equally a
matter of course for Miss Clay to glide softly into our
house, take her place near my mother, and read some
pleasant book or sing some pleasant song, that soothed

MISS CLAT. 55

pain, and caused weariness to be forgotten. Emboldened
by her presence, I dared to be much more frequently in
the sick-room, and Mrs. Armstrong, in her newly-ac-
quired gentleness, allowed me to remain undisturbed.
Sometimes, if my mother were a little better. Miss Clay
would stay later, till my father joined us in the veran-
dah ; and then she would talk with him of her brother,
and listen with delight to tales of the days when Ever-
ard Clay and my father had been fast friends. Long
years afterwards, when I visited Oxford, and walked
down the noble avenue called the Christ-Church Walk,
or along the banks of the Cherwell and the Tsis, I felt
as if I were treading again old haunts of my childhood,
so familiar was the name of every place, and so linked
with recollections of my father. I even fancied I found
the very pool whence Everard Clay was dragged by his
friend when their boat had upset, and the former, being
unable to swim, had nearly lost his life.

Old Ali used to carry me in his arms, with a thick
sunshade over my head, into our neighbours' compound
every morning ; and deposit me in front of the principal
bungalow, under a porch hung with a heavy drapery of
crimson passion-flower. Here I waited till Miss Clay

«

came from the breakfast-room, and led me through a
covered way to her own apartments, where two or three
hours were spent in what she was pleased to call my

56 alheria's castle.

studies. When these were over, All came to fetch ime
home again ; but more and more frequently, as time
passed on, my kind friend kept me till the afternoon.
She would take me into the children'^ bimgalow before
the twins were roused from their mid-day sleep, and
show me the little creatures lying, with ruffled hair and
parted lips, among their toys, and the moon-faced baby
in his cot, with his dark nurse sitting beside him. Miss
Clay liked to see the merry eyes open and give her a
laughing welcome ; and then we all went to the dining-
room, chasing each other along the covered way and the
deep verandah. I never got over my shyness with Mrs.
Farrer, though she was goodnatured and lively. She
seemed to me loud and bustling, and even her smart
clothes made me feel an awe of her that greatly inter-
fered with my enjoyment when in her presence. The
twins sat at the table in high chairs, shouted aloud for
every thing they wanted, dipped their fingers into the
dishes, and smeared their faces and pinafores with jam ;
while the baby sat on the ground with his ayah, and
shook his coral and bells, or shrieked for the crust that
was his daily treat. At first I found the whole scene
extremely bewildering, and as the servants came and
went with their bare silent feet, handing me dishes and
changing my plate, I was so alarmed that I hung my
head and began to cry. Mrs. Farrer asked, in a loud

MISS CLAY. 57

voice, what ailed me, but Miss Clay understood my feel-
ings, answered for me, and soon made me more comfort-
able. After the meal, we sometimes adjourned to the
plantation that lay to the north of the children's bun-
galow, and played in the shade. Here Miss Clay
showed us how to string white blossoms that were
strewed in heaps under the trees, as children in Eng-
land string daisies into long chains; or she brought
out a box of Chinese toys and spread them on the
ground. Wonderful toys they were; spiders with
quivering legs, tortoises with heads that peeped in and
out of their shells, tumblers that rolled hither and
thither, and picked themselves up again, after endless
vagaries. When the twins were tired of these. Miss
Clay would take me with her to her own pretty sitting-
room, and give me something to amuse me while she
played and sang; or she would read to me, and en-
courage me to talk of what she read, till it was time for
us both to go to my mother.

One morning, towards the end of the year, I found
my kind friend in an unusually restless mood. Several
times, while I puzzled over my spelling, she rose and
paced up and down the room, or struck a few notes on
the piano, then again sat down to help me through my
difficulties. She had none of her usual calmness that
day, and I watched, with surprise, her restless move-

58 almbria's castls.

ments, her wandering eyes and flushed cheeks. At last
she shut my book.

*' I'll tell you what it is, Clary/' she said, rising once
more, " I'm not fit to do governess to-day, and so we'll
put the lessons aside. I feel like a caged lion only
half tamed. If I were in England, I would take a long
walk over the moorland among the brown fern, and so
get rid of my superfluous excitement ; but here I can
only fidget and fret myself into a fever. What is the
matter with me P your great eyes ask. I'll tell you all
about it, Clary, and you may understand as much as
you can. Letters came to me this morning from my
father, to tell me that in a few days I should see him
here — yes, here, in this room ; and, Clary, if he were
to come in at this moment, I should not know him I I
have never seen him since I was a little baby. I don't
know how he will like me, and I go on thinking over
the meeting that is so near, half longing for it, half
wishing it was over and done. How puzzled you look.
Clary ! more utterly posed than you were with those
long words in your spelling-book."

She took my face between her two hands, and looked
kindly into my eyes, then kissed my forehead.

" Do you know what first drew my heart towards you,
little friend ?" she said. " It was this little pale face with
its eager eyes, reminding me of another little face that

MISS CLAY. 5d

I loved— oh! how dearly — a face that I shall never,
never see any more ! Poor Clary I you can't tell what
to make of me to-day in my strange mood. Don't be
afraid, child. Let us come and sit on the step^ and I
will tell you a story all about myself, for I cannot think
about lessons to-day."

She led the way to a door that opened towards the
north, into a part of the same plantation that shaded
the children's bungalow, and we sat down together on
the door-step. I seem to see the place now. The
ground under the trees was smooth and hard, and the
brushwood all cleared away, that there might be no
hiding-place for snakes or other noxious creatures. A
few india-rubber trees, with the young leaf at the end
of each bough folded in a sheath of rose colour, a few
palms, joining their great fans overhead, and here and
there a hibiscus with blossoms of crimson or yellow ;
and beyond all, near the road that wound through the
compound, a gay row of oleanders with large double
blossoms of pink or white, interspersed with gay pome-
granates, or tall bushes of Cape jessamine ; this was all
we saw, except when one of the native servants crept
by on some household mission, in white linen dress and
red turban. Miss Clay put her arm round me and drew
a long breath.

" I would give it all, gorgeous as it is," she exclaimed.

60 almeria's castle. - «t

" for one breath of fresh mountain air. Clary, I'm in
a discontented mood, and your quiet looks rebuke me,
so I will begin at once to tell my promised tale. It
must seem very strange to you that I have no recollec-
tion whatever of my father or mother. I was sent
home as an infant in charge of a nurse, my parents
remaining in India, and before I was three years old
my mother died. My earliest remembrances are of a
school in London, where I was much the youngest of a
party of ten or twelve girls. I hardly know how to
make you understand what my life was like there, it
was so different from your own, Clary. The house I
lived in was like one of the tall houses you have seen
in the fort, and our school-room was on the ground
floor, looking into a dull London square. To enhance
the dulness, the lower half of the windows was of
ground glass, so that all we could see of the outer
world, at the best, was a scrap of the sky with a fore-
ground of chimney-pots. Our walks were in the dull
square, or sometimes in the park, that was not far off,
but we tramped along listlessly, two and two, and cared
very little for any thing we saw. The school was kept
by two sisters— Miss Gilling, who was round and rosy,
and Miss Martha Gilling, who was tall and thin. The
dispositions of the two ladies differed like their appear-
ance ; the former being easy and goodnatured, the

MISS CLAT. 61

latter sharp and sour. They were assisted in the charge
and education of their flock by resident teachers, French
and English, and by a host of masters who came and
went perpetually. Miss Gilling sat in state in a room
opening into the school-room, taking a little easy duty
now and then, and smiling blandly on us all; while
Miss Martha managed the house, presided at meals, and
carved the joints, which were supplied with such weari-
some regularity, that we always knew what was on the
table before the covers were removed. All went on
methodically, as if each person were a part of some large
machine. To most of my companions, there came at
intervals the agreeable variety of going home for the
holidays ; but my home was far over the sea, and I
scarcely ever left the Miss Gillings' roof, except, indeed,
to pass a few days with them, in the summer vacation,
at Worthing or Bognor. If I had a young companion
in these trips to the seaside, as sometimes happened,
they were very enjoyable. Indeed, I would not have
you think I was unhappy at any time under the care
of those worthy women. For years I was the youngest
pupil, and therefore a privileged pet; besides, I had
never known any better or brighter home, and I was
very well satisfied. As time passed on, and I ceased to
be the youngest, I had harder work, but still I was
more the child of the house than the rest. Miss Gilling

62 ai.meiiia'8 castle.

took a personal pride in any little success I met with
in my studies, and Miss Martha was sparing of rebukes
for my want of order, and actually darned my stockings
herself.

** But I had my bright days ; better than the'momings
in holiday-time when, instead of the carpetless school-
room, the thick bread almost innocent of butter, and
the pale tea brought to a greenish hue by the admix-
ture of a little drop of London milk, I shared the com-
forts of the Miss Gillings' luxurious parlour and
delicately-served table ; better than the evenings when,
instead of listening to the * Voyages en Orient ' of M.
de Lamartine, read aloud for the delectation of the
young ladies, I sat in an easy chair and enjoyed Walter
Scott's novels ; better than each and all other joys a
thousandfold, was the delight of receiving a visit from
my brother Everard. He was ten years older than I, a
schoolboy at Harrow when I first recollect him, running
up to see his little sister when he could get leave. He
was one. Clary, who could have made a dungeon bright ;
and the Miss Gtillings always treated him with especial
favour, and allowed me to be alone with him, contrary
to their usual practice in such cases. How I chatted
to him, and how willingly he listened ! How we laughed
and made plans and laughed again ! Oh, Clary, how
happy we were !

MISS CLAT. 63

" By and by Everard went to Oxford, and his yisits
were more rare, and almost more precious. Meanwhile
I wad leaving childhood behind me, and becoming a tall
awkward girl, nearly as tall as I am now, by the time I
was fourteen and Everard twenty- four. Just at this
period, we made a plan that seemed too entirely de-
lightful ever to be realized, and yet. Clary, I lived to
see its bright hopes become sweet realities every day for
four happy years.

" By this time (I mean when he was twenty- four),
Everard was in holy orders, and doing duty as curate
in a small parish among the Surrey hills. His rector
was a very aged man, who intended the following year
to resign his charge ; and the living, being in the gift
of an Oxford friend, had already been promised to
Everard. Our plan was, that as soon as he should
come into possession of this home, I should live with
him and keep his house ; and, in spite of the remon-
strances of Miss Gilling, who thought it a pity that my
lessons should be interrupted so early in life, the fol-
lowing June found me the mistress of Everard's pretty
rectory, and one of the very happiest creatures on whom
the summer sun looked down. It was the prettiest
of cottages, perched on the hill-side, with roses on
its walls, and flower-beds on its sloping lawn. Ah !
Olary," continued Miss Clay, smiling, " dwarfish and

64 almbria's castle.

pale those flowers would seem to eyes accustomed to
these gorgeous colours, these blossoming trees/' and she
pointed to the plantation before us ; '' but to my recol-
lection they are sweet and lovely beyond compare.
A proud, busy young housewife I was among my
stores of linen, my shelves of grocery ; and if at times,
for want of forethought in that quiet place, we found
ourselves minus tea or sugar, or some such necessary,
we only made a joke of the misfortune, and Everard's
laugh at my forgetfulness left no sting in my heart.

" I wish I could show you, Clary, the steep hill be-
hind the rectory on a spring morning, with the sun-
shine gliding down between the red stems of the fir-
trees, the downy ferns peeping above the last year's
leaves, and the merry blue-bells shaking in the breeze !
How you would revel in the spicy scent of the young
boughs, so unlike the sickly odours of musk and sandal-
wood that seem to pervade every thing here ! You
would not be a prisoner lest the *sun should smite you,'
and how you would enjoy your freedom !

" My brother's parish contained no more than three
hundred souls, but he found plenty of work among them
for himself and me. The pretty church and the school*
house were close beside us, under the hill-side, and I
was in the school daily for two or three hours, besides
having charge of the choir, and visiting the sick. By

MISS CLAY. 66

five o'clock, however, I was always in the little drawing-
room, listening for the click of the garden-gate, and
Everard's brisk step across the garden ; for no one but
myself must open the door and give him welcome. At
dinner we discussed the events of the day, and after-
wards, in summer-time, we rambled over the hills, or sat
on the lawn till it was time to go in for tea, and we
finished the evening with music or reading. In winter
our evenings were passed in study, real hard brain-
work, very unlike the surface-learning at Miss Gilling's,
and I felt a joy I cannot describe, as I found myself
becoming a fitter companion for a thoughtful, learned
man, like my dear brother Everard.

"I was very fond of my little scholars, of one of
them more especially, the little creature of whom your
face Reminded me. Clary, the first time you looked wist-
fully up at the tall stranger who questioned you about
your cat. I cannot talk much about her, for I loved
her dearly. She was always very sickly, though all
her brothers and sisters were large and strong ; and in
the second summer of our acquaintance, she grew worse,
and though I took her into the rectory and nursed her
myself, carrying her out to lie on the lawn when the
day was fine, she never got well again. My little daisy
faded away.

" Well, Clary, your old friend is getting pi:osy, but

p

66 almeria's castle.

my tale is nearly told, — as much of it, at least, as I can
tell you. Four years this happy life at the rectory
lasted. We had neighbours scattered over the country
within a few miles of us, and we saw them at intervals,
but when first we lived at the rectory, I was too young
to go into society, and Everard would not leave me
alone ; and as time passed on, and I became a young
woman, we found ourselves too happy to make much
change in our habits. Thus it happened that we were
not very intimate with any body, though exchanging
friendly civilities with several families in the neigh-
bourhood.

" The end came, Clary, the end of this bright, blessed
life, only eight months ago, though those eight months
seem to me longer than the four years that came before
them. I am not going to talk to you much about the
change, little Clary, but J[ want you to tell your father
how it happened. Everard had been away for three
days on business, and I was looking out for his re-
turn, listening for the sound of wheels between the
gusts of wind and beating showers on a day at
the end of March, when I saw a stranger open the
garden-gate, and a great terror came over me. I
soon knew all. There had been an accident on the
railroad, and my darling brother was among the
killed."

MISS CLAY. 67

Miss Clay hid her face for a few minutes, and then
spoke again.

"My father wrote for me to come out, Clary, and
I should have joined him up the country, only that
he expected an appointment at Bombay; so, when I
arrived here, I found orders from him that I should
stay with my cousins. Colonel and Mrs. Farrer, for the
present. He has now obtained the appointment, and is
coming in a few days, and this is why you have found
me so unlike myself to-day. Come, child! you are
tired with my grave talk; let us go and see if the
twins are waking yet."

I followed her to the children's bungalow, where Rosa
and Emily were being dressed in a room at one end of
the building. We passed on softly to the other end, to
inquire for the moon-faced baby, who was suffering.
Miss Clay said, from an attack of fever. The child was
dozing, with his light blue eyes half unclosed and his
breath coming uneasily. His ayah sat on the floor
beside the mat on which he lay, and a Mussulman boy
named Ali, who was one of the children's special
attendants, was in the verandah outside, with a basket
of stones to throw at the crows, which singly or in
numbers settled on the neighbouring trees, and threat-
ened to disturb the babe's sleep with their harsh
cawing.

F 2

68 almerta's castle.

" Poor baby ! " said Miss Clay, as we returned to tbe
twins, "he was very ill last night; and this evening
Mrs. Farrer is going to take him and the twins away
for a few days, to a house in Salsette. She thinks the
change will do them all good. I shall stay here to
await my father's arrival."

We found the twins already dressed, and as the
luncheon hour was near, we led them towards the large
bungalow, hushing their voices so long as the sound
might reach the poor baby. As we neared the draw-
ing-room, and the chatter of the little ones grew loud
again, a gentleman came towards us. I knew it was
Colonel Farrer, for I had often seen him in the porch
while I waited for Miss Clay in the morning, and when
he was on the way to his carriage to go to his duty in
the fort. He was a kind and courteous man, and had
always a pleasant word even for a little girl like me.
But for him to be at home at this hour, except on
Sunday, was an event so unprecedented, that the twins
absolutely shrieked with amazement. In another
moment Miss Clay sprang towards him, speaking in
a low, eager voice.

"0 Philip!" she said, "you have news for me; I
am sure you have news."

He smiled and nodded, and she continued almost in
a whisper, " Is he come ?"

MISS CLAT. 69

Again Colonel Farrer smiled and nodded.

" Philip ! is he here ?" said Miss Clay.

'* Don't be agitated, my dear Anne," Colonel Farrer
said, taking her hand and drawing it under his arm.
" The fact is, the paternal feelings grew so strong, that
the Colonel was obliged to obey them, and he hurried
on faster than any body ever travelled before, I believe,
just to see his daughter's face. Don't keep him waiting
now."

The twins and I had listened, open mouthed, to this
little dialogue, and as Colonel Farrer led Miss Clay
into the drawing-room, we followed in silence. Mrs.
Farrer, attired with her accustomed brilliancy, sat in
state in a large arm-chair, but I had no thought to
waste on her. What I felt eager to see was Miss
Clay's father, the stranger whom his own daughter
did not know. He rose, and came forward with
outstretched arms, — a tall, elderly man, with stiff
military bearing, fine features, and snow-white hair
and moustache. In a moment she was folded to
his heart in a silence that was only broken by
her low sobs, and soon afterwards they were sit-
ting side by side on a sofa, Miss Clay looking very
white, with downcast eyes, while her father gazed
at her without speaking. Presently her whole face
quivered, the colour rushed into her cheeks, and.

70 almeria's castle.

looking up shyly, as she held out both her hands, she
cried,

" 0, papa, do try to like me ! do love me ! "

He took the hands in his, and held them close to
his breast, as he said, with a playful smile, '•' I will try,
Anne. I don't feel as if it would be a very hard task,
my darling."

All this time the twins and I had escaped notice, and
were observing all that passed with curious interest,
but now the little ones grew tired of being quiet,
so they began to perform certain gambols which soon
attracted attention to themselves. Colonel Clay turned
towards the corner where we stood, and then to Mrs.
Farrer :

** Your children, of course ?" he said.

" These are mine," she replied, rising and bringing
Hosa and Emily forward; "these are my twin girls,
and I have a little boy also, a fine fellow, but he is
unfortunately ill."

Colonel Clay shook hands with his little cousins,
speaking to them in Hindustani ; and I stood alone,
feeling as if I had no right to be there, and nobody
cared for me. I twisted the corner of my hoUand pina-
fore, and wished the floor would open and swallow me
up at once out of sight. But this state of things did
not last long ; Miss Clay rose, took my hand, and drew

MISS CLAY. 71

me to the sofa, where she again sat down, keeping me
close beside her; and at the first break in the loud
chattering of the twins, she said to her father,

" Look, papa ; you must make acquaintance with this
little girl too. She is a dear little friend of mine, and
her father was Everard's friend at Oxford."

"She has indeed strong claims on me," he answered,
as he took my hand ; and then asking my name, and
speaking a few words with the same courtesy, stiff yet
kind, that he would have used had I been twenty years
older, he made me feel quite at home again. After
luncheon, at which meal the twins were especially
uproarious, in the prospect of their journey to Salsette,
Colonel Farrer declared that he must return to his
office, and he offered to drop me at home as he passed,
so I took leave of the party and climbed into his buggy.

In a few minutes, I was established on a stool beside
my mother's couch, telling her the events of the morn-
ing, and how I thought Colonel Clay, in spite of his
stiff looks, would be a very good papa to my kind
friend. My mother smoothed my hair with her thin
hand as she listened, and then said,

" Poor little Clary ! I am afraid it will make a sad
change for you."

" A change for me ! " I repeated, her meaning flash-
ing upon me and sending the colour into my face.

72 almebia's castle.

"0, mamma! do you think Mias Clay will not care
for me now P But indeed she will, mamma, I am sure
she will ! " and I told how kindly she had called me
forward to be presented to her father.

" She will not forget you, Clary. Miss Clay is not a
person to forget her friends," my mother answered
warmly; "but she will have new duties and claims
upon her now, and you must not expect to see her so
often. To begin. Clary ; I don't think you can go to
her again in the morning until she bids you. Colonel
Clay may want her at that time."

I laid my head down on my mother's piUow. trying
not to cry at the thought of my happy mornings being
all past and gone, and the best comfort was to feel her
hand still fondling me.

" We must coax Mrs. Armstrong to let you be very
often with me, dear," she said ; " I like you to talk to
me now I am so much better. Do you know, papa is
coming back early this evening to take me for a drive
in the buggy P He promised to find room at our feet
for my little Clary."

At this speech I lifted my head again and smiled, for
my mother's going out was a very imaccustomed and
joyful event, and the prospect of it, with the help of
my kitten's playfulness, enabled me to get through the
intervening hours with tolerable spirit. In due time

MISS CLAY. 73

we set forth, descended the hill, and paused near the
shore, that my mother, lying back on her cushions,
might be refreshed by the sea-breeze ; while I, looking
hither and thither, was amused to see the toddy-
drawers climbing like monkeys to the top of the tall
Palmyra palms, with the aid only of a hoop that passed
rdund their body and the stem of the tree; or the
Governor's carriage pass by with its four horses, the
postiUons in high jack-boots, red coats, and white
muslin turbans. There were parties of children, too ;
some carried by bearers, some on ponies, with a crowd
of ayahs following, clad in white drapery, and with
bangles on their arms and rings in their noses, talking
in loud tones and with much gesticulation. As we
passed on to the part of the road called Breach Candy,
the scene grew still more animated. Carriages were
flitting by, or pausing to let the sea-breeze fan the
pale faces of their languid occupants; the parties of
children were more numerous, and ladies, with attendant
cavaliers, were met not unfrequently. It was a pleasant
place; the waters of the Indian Ocean, bringing a
breath of freshness, bathed the low black rocks on the
left, while on the right were villas scattered among
gardens and .plantations. In one place a white Hindoo
temple rose between us and the sea, and farther on was
a Parsee villa, with its extensive gardens ; a little

74 almbria's castle.

farther still, as we drove along a raised causeway that
protects the low flats from incursions of the sea, Mrs.
Farrer's carriage swept past us on ita way to Salsette.
The poor moon-faced baby looked very disconsolate, and
as if his huge feathers weighed his head on one side ;
but the twins were in high spirits, and shrieked a
cordial recognition as they caught sight of me. Not
long afterwards we met a group of riders, one of them
a lady, who sat her horse with graceful ease, as she
chatted with the white-haired gentleman beside her.
The pretty golden hair, and a peep of the rounded
cheek had told me who it was before she turned.

"Yes !" I exclaimed, clapping my hands, as the face
with its sweet bright smile looked towards us, "it is
Miss Clay, my Miss Clay!" She heard me, but she
did not stop, only kissed her hand and nodded, and
rode on. No doubt my mother was right. Miss Clay
had new claims, she could not be all that she had been
to us, and yet I did not like to think so. I could not
get rid of the subject, till we entered the Mahim
woods, and then the novelty of the scene attracted my
attention. There were palms of every age, from the
little green points just piercing the soil, or the first
young leaves just spreading over the gfound like a
tuft of green fern, to the giant stems tossing their
crowns a hundred feet above the earth.

MISS CLAY. 75

Then there were huts in the thickest shade, from
which dogs ran out and barked, or wild brown children,
leaping and yelling, made the woods ring with their
unearthly voices. Now we met two or three women
with yellow marigolds in their smooth black hair,
and reddish sarees wrapped about them, carrying on
their heads copper vessels they had just filled with
water from the tank ; and presently we saw the tank
itself, set like a natural lake in a margin of wood,
with the image of the white temple on the farther
bank lying on its waters, beyond the clusters of
white and red water-lilies, that were closing for the
night.

We turned to go home where a few better dwellings
clustered about the remains of a Portuguese convent
and college, and were glad to light our lamps, for the
wood was already dark. By the time we again reached
the shore, the moon was up, shining with a brilliancy
that rivalled the daylight. My mother enjoyed her
drive to the very end, and declared herself not too tired.
As we ascended Malabar Hill (the syce, or groom,
running backwards before the horse to encourage him,
according to the custom of the country), my father
expressed much alarm at the prospect of meeting Mrs.
Armstrong, and pretended to be summoning all his
courage for the encounter. She was waiting for us in

76 almebia's castle.

the garden, and lie called to lier cheerfully, as we
entered our own gate,

"Well, here we are, Mrs. Armstrong; you must
have thought we were lost ; but the land-wind won't
begin to blow for an hour yet, and we have had a de-
lightful expedition.''

" Indeed, I'm happy to hear it, Mr. Grantham," she
answered, in rather a melancholy tone. " I'm sure I
hope Mrs. Grantham will be none the worse for so
much fatigue."

" What an old croaker it is ! " muttered my father ;
but my mother's gentle voice interposed.

" I am sure it can do me nothing but good," she said ;
" I neyer enjoyed any thing so much."

Mrs. Armstrong's " I'm sure I'm glad to hear it,"
was so proYokingly incredulous and dismal, that my
father could hardly have let it pass, but that my mother
at the moment asked him to carry her into the house,
and his anxious care for her soon absorbed all his
attention.

CHAPTER V.

MHATE not apoben of my morning walks with
mj father while we lived at Malabar Hill, and
yet they were among my greatest delights.
Sometimea we wandered out to Malabar Point,
where the Governor has a residence, at that time
vacant. Just below it are the niins of an old temple,
and we liked to sit on the fallen stones and listen
to the sea on the rocks. There is a cleft not easy
of access near the Point, considered peculiarly sa-
cred by the Hindoos, who believe that when they pass
through it, they leave their sins behind them ; and
sometimes, in our early -visits to the spot, we saw

78 almeria's castle.

strange figures who had come on pilgrimage to scramble
through the cave. We sometimes encountered un-
couth objects, too, on our road along the crest of the
hill; religious mendicants, their bodies rubbed with
wood-ashes, which gave them a livid tint, while, to add
to the general ghastliness of their appearance, some of
them had painted their faces and sides with streaks of
white. My greatest terror, however, on this road, was
an old man sitting on the floor of a shed, immovable,
with his eyes fixed on the wall. There he was in his
unchanging hideousness, day after day. He, too, was
a Hindoo devotee fulfilling a vow, and looked upon by
his own people with special veneration ; but I always
clung tightly to my father's hand and hurried my steps
as we passed the shed that contained this frightful ob-
ject. On the opposite side of the road was a long flight
of steps descending to a village, considered to be a place
of peculiar sanctity by the Hindoos. Once or twice we
went a little way down, and saw a number of temples
about a tank. My father told me that some of the
Brahmins living there had never allowed their eyes to
be polluted by looking on an European dwelling.

In another of our frequent walks, we passed some
iron gates, with high walls on either side, and I never
could help looking through the bars, though matted
boughs hid from my sight the " Towers of Silence " which

SALSETTE. 79

I knew stood within. These were circular buildings,
hollow, with an iron grating at the top, on which the
Farsees, the descendants of the old Persian Zoroastrians,
or fire- worshippers, exposed their dead to the birds of
prey. The grim silence of the enclosure was often
broken by the heavy flapping of the vulture's wing, and
often a row of the obscene birds sat stupidly blinking
on the outer wall. I shuddered as I thought of their
horrible banquet, and hurried on.

Sometimes, through the open door of a Hindoo
temple, we caught sight of ugly, many-handed idols,
and saw the priest decking the shrine with leaves and
flowers, or making a noisy clamour with bells and tom-
toms. At some of the tanks by the wayside, people
were drawing water, and performing their simple ablu-
tions by emptying their brass water- vessels over their
heads. In others, bufialoes were slaking their thirst.
We met groups of women returning homewards, with
water-pots poised on their heads, and children sitting
on their hips ; and, sometimes, parties of English ladies
and gentlemen riding to enjoy the freshness of the dawn.

On the very first morning after Colonel Clay's
arrival, I had a proof that Miss Clay thought of me
still, for, as my father and I passed out of our own com-
pound into the shadow of our neighbour's pretty
mimosa-trees on the high road, we met a groom leading

80 almeria's castle.

a pony not larger than a Newfoundland dog, with a
little Spanish saddle on its back. The man held out
towards me a twisted note, which I begged my father
to take, as I was not yet able to read handwriting ; and
he presently told me Miss Clay had s^it her little
cousin Rose's pony for me to ride, and that it would
come every morning while the Farrers were absent.
This was joyful news, for, with this aid, our expedi-
tions could be longer, and I had no fears while my
father walked beside my steed. But later, when he
was gone to his office, the hours seemed very long and
dull. My mother slept late after the unusual fatigues
of the previous evening, and I grew very weary of my
doll's company in the verandah. My cat was in wild
spirits, and frisked in the sunshine, whither I could not
follow her ; and I was glad indeed when at length I
heard my mother's weak voice call me &om the adjoin-
ing room. The rest of the day passed happily enough,
and in the evening we all went out again for a drive.
This time we drove, at my entreaty, through the native
town, where there was much to amuse me. The tall
houses were thrown open, and there were people loxmg-
ing in the carved and gaily-painted balconies. Now
we passed a shigram, or close carriage, containing a
party of Parsee ladies ; then a cart hung with gay red
curtains and drawn by two white bullocks, conveying

SALSETTE. 81

some chattering Hindoo women ; presently an Arab in
his Bedouin dress rode by^ on one of the beautiful
horses he had lately brought across from his desert ; or
a handsome Afighan well mounted and well armed.
Parsee gentlemen driving high-stepping horses, and
English ladies in handsome carriages were to be Inet
here. Kow and then, too, might be seen a Persian
with tall black lambskin cap above his fair and hand-
some face, and his person clad in pale blue, or green, or
yellow robesf ; and women in silken sarees gossipped
round the weUs, before wending homewards with their
water-pots.

The buildings were as varied as the people. The
open fronts of the shops showed the dyer's brilliant
draperies, the brazier's display of biright vessels, or the
Jew- goldsmith's store of trinkets. Here stood a simple
Buddhist temple, there a Hindoo shrine with flower-
pots before it, and there a mosque into which a crowd
of Mussulmen were hurrying, — a domed building, with
delicately carved windows, looking like an ivory toy,
and lighted up at dusk with lamps in green glasses that
produced a pretty moonlight effect. Between the build-
ings, here and there, were trees on which hung all day
what might be taken for rags, but were in fact large bats,
or flying foxes, that, safely suspended to a twig by
the hooks on their wings, were sleeping away the day.

82 almeria's castle.

ready to wake at dusk and flit through the lighted
rooms around them.

All these sights amused me, but wearied my mother,
and our second drive was hardly so successful as the
first. The next day passed very quietly, the only ex-
citement being caused by a huge peacock, that came
sailing in through one of our upper windows, and
strutted about the verandah, till it was induced at
length to walk down the stairs and pass out into the
garden. There was no drive for us in the evening, and
my father looked sad when he came from my mother's
room, and, silently taking my hand, strolled for awhile
in the garden. I went to bed with a heavy heart, feel-
ing as if the old sad times were come back again. The
following morning, however, as we returned from our
stroll, and before my father had lifted me from the
pony, Miss Clay came into the compound, and I wel-
comed her with a cry of joy. "Poor little Clary," she
said, as she stooped to kiss me, "did you think you
were forgotten ? I have been very busy, or I should
have sent for you." She came and sat with us in the
verandah, asking for my mother, and lamenting to hear
she had been over-tired. As to me, I was quite happy
to have her again, and to see that she was just the same
as before. I stood with my hand in hers, listening to
her pleasant voice, and patiently waiting till she should

6ALSETTE. 83

address me again. I heard her speak of having met us
in our first drive, and of having thought it better not to
stop and speak to ns, lest my mother should be nervous ;
and I rejoiced to think how good and considerate this
dear friend was.

"I came," she said, presently, "with a proposition
whicii I fear you cannot entertain, since Mrs. Grantham
is complaining. Do you remember that to-morrow is
Christmas Day ? Ah ! in this strange land one forgets
times and seasons, but nevertheless, in spite of the heat
and the blaze of sunshine, Christmas is here. Colonel
Farrer, and papa — oh. Clary ! how sweet it is to have a
papa of one's own, isn't it P — Colonel Farrer and papa
and I are going to drive out this evening to join Mrs.
Farrer, and we almost hoped we might tempt you and
Clary to come too."

"A thousand thanks," my father answered, "but it
is quite impossible. I could not leave my poor wife."

" I feared not, when you said she was not so well,"
continued Miss Clay, " but I hope you will spare Clary.
It will be a little change for her, and I will look after
her in every possible way. There is some plan for an
expedition to Bassein, but my father intends that we
«hall return here Tuesday evening. From Saturday
till Tuesday, he says, will be the longest holiday he has
taken for years."

G 2

84 almebia's castle.

Every objection on the score of my being a trouble-
some charge was playfully oyerruled by Miss Clay, and
that same eyening found me sitting shyly opposite to
Colonel Clay in a luxurious carriage, rolling along at
a rapid pace. It was not till we had left the Mahim
woods on our right, and crossed the causeway that con-
nects the island of Bombay with Salsette, that I took
courage to look about me. So far as I remember, the
road was not without beauty, passing through unen-
closed land, varied in outline and studded with trees,
" like a gentleman's park in England," as Miss Clay
remarked, " only for the dried-up grass, instead of green
turf by knoll and dell." Away to the right, where
flowed the Tanuah river or strait, that makes Salsette
an island, a white sail might be seen now and then
through the trees, and farther still were imdulating
hills fading away in the distance. It was nearly dark
when we reached our destination, and, passing through
a gate and a sort of avenue, stopped in front of a large
irregular building, with a fountain playing in a stone
basin opposite to the porch. The twins came rushing
out to meet us, followed by a troop of ayahs and bearers,
and I found myself borne, as it were by a flood, into
the house and up the staircase into a chamber where a
dinner-table was laid out under a blaze of many lamps.

" Here you are ! " cried Mrs. Farrer, entering the

SALSETTB. 85

room by the window at the farther end. " How are you,
Philip ? Welcome, Colonel Clay. Oh, Anne ! I'm very
glad to see you, and you've brought little Grantham, I
see. Baby is a great deal better, and this is the dullest
place in all the world."

" We don't mean to let it be dull now,** said Colonel
Farrer, smiling.

" Ah, no, we shall do very well now. Mr. and Mrs.
Dwight are here, and Major Conway and Mr. Collier.
Come out into the balcony. We've voted it our draw-
ing-room, for we have been obliged to give up the room
below to the children, and to make this the dining-
room."

She led the way, and Miss Clay followed, with me
holding fast by her skirts ; and we found ourselves in a
square balcony, with canvas roof, overhanging a gar-
den, whose neglected condition was veiled by the
evening shades, while another fountain made a plashing
sound that seemed a promise of coolness and refresh-
ment, and sent its dancing waters so high into the air,
that they caught a gleam of light now and then from
the lamps within the room behind us. There were
several persons seated on chairs in the balcony, and
they rose to greet my companions. One only of these
I had seen before, Mr. Collier, who recognized me in
the dying light, and found a place for me when the

86 almesia's castle.

assembled company again sat down. A little tranqnil
and rather stiff conTersation followed, bat was soon
intermpted by an alarm that the twins were present,
and had began perilling their precioos lives by climbing
ap the iron rails of the balcony. They were forthwith
captared, and led away by their mother, and in the hash
that ensaed we coold hear the crackling of the Palmyra
palms, the rustle of the ragged banana-leayes, and the
pleasant play of the fountain. The twilight was already
passing into night, and the stars were beginning to
show themselves. Most of the party had gone into the
house to prepare for dinner, but Miss Clay sat still, her
hat on her knee, her head thrown back, as if she enjoyed
the rest and peace. Presently her hand was laid gently
on my head.

" My ]X)or little Clary," she said, " yon mast be tired,
and hungry, and thirsty ; and I, who promised to take
care of you, have been thinking my own thoughts, and
never heeding you at all. Good little mouse, you shall
have some dinner with us."

She rose as she spoke, and moved to the front of the
balcony, leaning over as if to listen to the water, then
suddenly exclaiming, " Oh, Clary, Clary ! do you know
it is Christmas Eve?" she covered her face with her
hands and sobbed aloud. I could only cry, " Oh don't,
dear Miss Clay 1 Please don't 1" but as I instinctively

SALSETTE. 87

turned for help, I saw there was still one dark figure in
the balcony besides ourselves, and by the light from
the room I made out that it was Mr. Collier. He was
going in, but paused as I uttered his name, and after
a moment's hesitation came towards us, saying very
gently, " Can I do any thing for you, Miss Clay ? If
you could only make me useful — "

In a moment she was quite calm, though tears
glittered on her cheeks as she moved towards the light.

" It was only a moment's weakness," she said, as she
frankly gave him her hand. " A thought of last Christ-
mas came over me, but I do not forget how much I
have to be thankful for still."

I thought Mr. Collier said " God bless you," and
added something about wishes of the season ; and
certainly there were no more tears shed the re-
mainder of that evening. The sweet serenity of her
manner, sometimes breaking into playfulness, made me
feel at home, in spite of my habitual shyness of Mrs.
Farrer, who, attired in her usual magnificence, was
even more than usually loud and talkative. To my
inexperienced eyes, the dinner seemed a banquet fit for
an emperor, and I heard my elders express surprise at
its elegance and abundance.

"From what you had said, Louisa," observed Miss
Clay to Mrs. Farrer, " I thought we should sit on the

88 almeria's castle.

floor with a plate on our laps in proper pic-nic fashion,
instead of which you have given us all the luxuries of
home."

"Your Parsee fellow must be first rate/' said Mr.
D wight. " What do you call him ? "

" His name is Nowrojee Nusserawanjee/' replied Mrs.
Farrer, " but he lived formerly with an English ofEcer,
who declared he must call him John for shortness, and
we have continued the same appellation."

John was in great force that day, proud of the
success of his feast, achieved under difficulties, and
gratified by the surprise of his master's guests. He
wore his usual state dress of crimson silk trowsers and
robe of white muslin, with the frightful Parsee head-
dress ; and a complacent smile fiitted now and then over
his features. The keen eyes were never still, the bare
feet moved hither and thither with silent speed, and
it seemed to me, whenever I caught sight of the dark
acute face, with its tiny moustache and smoothly-shaven
chin, that the Parsee John heard and saw and noted
every thing that was said and done by every one at
table. Besides the ubiquitous John, there was a servant
behind every chair but mine. Some of these were
black Portuguese from Gk)a, with uncovered shaggy
heads, and white linen garments of European cut, others,
Mussulmen, with scarlet turbans; but all left their

SALSETTB. 89

slippers outside the door of the room, and waited on us
with bare feet.

As I fell asleep that night on a couch in Miss Clay's
room, I heard a sound of many voices singing in the
balcony, and fancied I could distinguish hers rising,
clear and sweet, above all the rest. The next morning
I was awakened by the tap of a fresh rose on my cheek.

^'A happy Christmas to you, little Clarissa, and
many of themP' said Miss Clay, stooping to kiss me,
as I opened my eyes. " It is early, little one, but I
thought you would like to come out with me. We will
keep our Christmas together as much as we caUj
Clary."

We were soon out of doors, exploring the neglected
garden, and picking such flowers as we could find.
Beyond the garden lay waste lands dotted with cactus-
plants and milk-trees. The wooded hills beyond looked
very tempting, but were too far off for us to reach them
on foot. When we returned to the house, we met Mr.
Collier with a bunch of gay blossoms he had been
gathering on the hill-side, and we soon adorned the
room and the breakfast-table with our spoils, which
were very lovely, though I heard Miss Clay say to Mr.
Collier, " You will call me very unreasonable, but one
sprig of holly would be better than all.'* After break-
fast, at which meal the twias appeared, clamouring for

90 almebia's castle.

marmalade, upsetting teacups^ and allowing very little
to be heard besides their own powerful Yoices, Miss
Clay took me into her room, and read and talked to me
of the holy themes that belonged to the day. She
made me sleep through the sultry afternoon, till the
dinner-hour, which was earlier than nsual, as Mrs.
Farrer meant to drive to the hills afiierwards. By and
by, when the carriages and horses were announced, I
saw Miss Clay speak a few words in private to her
father, who patted her cheek and nodded in reply, and
then she beckoned to me to follow her to her room, and
we stood near the window, hidden by the jalousies,
watching the party below. It was a gay scene, backed
by the white tents in which Colonel Clay and the other
gentlemen, for whom there was no room in the house,
passed the night. The fluttering of the canvas startled
Colonel Farrer's young horses, and the last sound we
heard, as the carriage drove off, was a scream of fear
from Mrs. Farrer, loudly echoed by the twins, who sat
opposite to her.

"There is no harm done," said Miss Clay, after
watching the carriage for a few moments ; " the horses
are quite quiet now, and every body is gone. What
shall we do, Clary P Shall we visit the baby, and then
go out into the garden P "

The baby was fretful, and we soon passed out into

SALSETTE. 9l

the open air. We did not stay by the fountain, where
we could hear the chattering of the ayahs from the
house, and see the bearers or other servants taking
occasional peeps at us, with their usual curiosity ; but
we took a path that led between rows of deciduous
cypresses to a small tank, on whose irregular stone wall
we found a seat. My companion exerted herself to
amuse me, and told me long stories of her own child-
hood, and of English ways and scenes. No one dis-
turbed us but the gardener, who came, as on other
days, to fill his copper pots at the tank, and walked
away with them slung to a piece of wood that he carried
on his shoulder. Miss Clay watched him with a look
of sadness, and I seemed to catch from her a thought
of pity for the poor heathen, to whom all days were
alike, to whom even Christmas Day brought no
blessing.

" Dear Clary, dear little friend," she said, in her most
caressing tone, taking my face between her hands and
kissing it fondly, "I don't know what I should have
done without you to-day. Such a strange Christmas
Day ! such a strange Sunday ! Shall I tell you what it
was like last year P I was not very gay then, for I
had but lately parted with that little face of which
yours so often reminds me ; and every time I went to
church, I passed a little mound where all of my darling

92 almeria's castle.

that was earthly had been Liid to rest. Yet I was very
happjy Clary. The snow was on the ground, the pure
white snow, such as you have never seen. I saw it
lying on that little grave as I walked to church with
my brother, and beautiful thoughts came into my mind
of the land whither the child I had loved was gone so
lately* My voice was quite clear and strong when I
led the Christmas hymn, though the words had a deeper
meaning for me than they had ever had before But
I am bringing shadows over your little face, Clary,
with my grave talk. I should rather teU you of our
merry trips over the common and into the lanes in
search of holly, of our home-comings laden with
boughs, so thatyou might have thought, like Macbeth,
that Bimam Wood was moving. We were busy for
many days, I and the school-children, making wreaths
to hang in the school-room, and, as we grew more skil-
ful, decorations for our pretty little church. Before
dark on Christmas Eve our tasks were done, and as
Everard and I were spending our evening together, a
troop of villagers came to our windows and sang some
of the carols I have tried to teach you. Clary. I opened
the shutters and put out the candles that I might see
better, and there, beyond the spot of red firelight that
fell from the window on the snowy lawn, stood the
singers, muffled up warmly, and singing with all their

SALSETTE. 93

hearts. I oould not help joining in their song, and
Everard did so too as he stood beside me.

" On Christmas Day (which was Friday, — this being
Leap-year, you know. Clary,) we dined with the old
Squire of our Tillage and his sister, at their particular
request. We had a quiet, peaceful evening, and we
lingered as we walked home, to admire the snow lying
on the boughs of the tall cedars that were the pride of
the Squire's heart. The next day we gave a feast to
the children at the school, and when at last they ceased
to eat, we played with them at all sorts of games, and
then called in the aid of the village -fiddler and finished
with a dance.

"But the great event of the season, Clary, was a
grand party at a fine old place called Yeldham. It is
such a house as you have never seen, — time-stained and
gabled, and half covered with ivy. In the centre of the
huge pile is a clock-tower of brick, like the rest of the
building, with an arched doorway surrounded with heavy
stone masonry. At this great door we stopped on New
Tear's Eve, among a crowd of carriages, and mounting
a flight of steps, were ushered through a lesser hall,
where we left our wraps, into the great hall, which had
a vaulted roof like a church, and was on this particular
occasion lighted up as brilliantly as Parsee John him-
self could have lighted it* Crimson curtains himg over

94 almeria's castle.

the tall windows on either side, shutting out the wind
and the snow ; and on the hearth was a mass of blazing
logs that sent flames dancing, and leaping, and roaring
up the vast chimney. Great glass chandeliers, like
fountains of crystal drops, hung by chains from the
roof, and blazed with hundreds of wax lights. Hun«
dreds more were in sconces on the waUs. Here and
there were suspended trophies composed of armour and
banners, with wreaths of holly about them ; and the
front of the music-gallery was like a bower of leaves
and flowers. You cannot think. Clary, how glad and
bright a scene it was. We found plenty of our friends
there, and we had scarcely arrived when the musicians
began to play, and troop after troop of gay figures
danced about the floor.

" I told you the music-gallery was at one end of the
haU. At the other was the great dial of the clock,
around which the hands were creeping on and on, in
spite of all the merriment, till at last they were both
very near the figure of twelve. At this time the musi-
cians paused, and there was a general hush of expecta-
tion, no one could say why ; but the minute-hand crept
on nearer and nearer to the point that would mark the
close of the year, and many an eye watched it furtively
and nervously. Presently some one began to play on
the organ that was at the back of the gallery. At first

SALSETTE. 95

the sounds were faint and low, but they swelled louder
and deeper, till the oaken roof was filled with their
solemn harmony. Every one who heard grew very
still and grave, and I clung to my brother's arm, when
I found him standing near me, and waited and listened
like the rest. Presently we became aware of a figure
standing below the clock, so motionless we thought it
might have been a statue, only we were sure it had not
been there a few minutes before. No one had seen it
enter, but all were now observing it eagerly. It was
a very old man, clad in garments that might once have
been white, but were now stained with toil and travel,
and hanging in tatters about him. He had a pilgrim's
staff in his hand, and on his back a burden that bent
him earthwards with its weight. Long locks of white
hair hung about his wrinkled face, and were bound with
a fillet, on the front of which was worked in scarlet
berries the date of the year just coming to a close. Yes,
Clary, it was the poor old dying year come to take leave
of us ! No one stirred or spoke, the solemn music played
on, and the trembling figure moved, supported by his
stafi*, down the centre of the hall. As he drew near the
great door the music died away, and the belief the clock
began slowly to strike the hour. At every stroke the
figure drew a step nearer to the door ; but at the sixth
stroke the heavy doors flew open, and therlB entered,

96 almeriaV castle.

alone and fearless, a toddling child scarcely higher than
my handy dressed in glistening white, as pnre as the
snow outside, and wearing over its flaxen curls a silver
crown, with the date of the coming year in the front,
worked in bright beads that shone like icicles. At the
same moment, there burst in from the outer hall the
soimd of a triumphal march. The New Year was
coming in. Clary, the young, hopeful, happy year!
Face to face for a moment paused the Old Year and the
New, and then the old worn figure stooped and kissed
the child's round cheek, and passed across the threshold
and away out of our sight. And now a crowd came
pouring in, and after a moment's confusion, I saw that
some one had taken a great shield down from the wall,
and laid a lion's skin over it, and placed the child there,
as if on a throne ; and twelve figures dressed in armour,
with holly in their helmets and white scarves across
their breasts, came round the child. Four of these had
javelins, on the points of which they raised the shield
high above their heads, and in a moment a gay pro-
cession was moving round the hall. First went a band
of musicians in grotesque dresses, and among them two
black boys who clanged silver cymbals, and shook the
bells on their anklets as they walked; then came the
child with his armed guard ; and, as they paced along,
a troop of girls and boys, dressed in white and crowned

SALSETTE. 97

with holly, woye a fantastic dance round and round
them. After these came at first only a few of the com-
pany, but as the procession advanced, more and more
joined it, till we were all pacing round the hall by one
impulse, keeping time to the merry march, and joining
in the cry that came at each close of the tune, ' God bless
the glad New Year ! ' I could not keep my eyes from
the pretty child who sat fearlessly in his triumphal car
up above us all. Whether he had been taught or not, I
cannot tell, but he perpetually waved his dimpled hands
to and fro, as if he were blessing us, and his happy smile
was never shaded for a moment. The procession moved
round the hall, and then up to the end under the clock,
where now there was a throne on which the child was
placed. I lost sight of him for a few minutes, when all
the company were flocking into the banqueting-room,
but after a while I caught sight of the little white
figure on a pedestal covered with branches of flowers,
in the centre of the long table on which supper was
laid out. He still looked gracious and happy, and
smiled as his twelve guards clashed their swords above
his head and drank to his health. I looked away to
answer the question of a neighbour, and when I turned
again, the pedestal was vacant. To say the truth. Clary,
I think the New Year had been carried away to his
little bed. And so ends my story. Did you like it P*'

II

98 almekia's cactle.

In truth I did, and I said so. It was as good as a
fairy-tale to me, whose life had been so quiet and
lonely. Meantime, the shadows of night had fallen
unperceived around us, and the keen stars were already
reflected in the black waters of the tank. We could
just distinguish the flats stretching out to our left, and
the avenue on the other side, leading to the house. I
quite started as I saw a dark figure come out of the
avenue towards us, and heard a voice, which however
I soon recognized as Mr. Collier's, say, " May I come,
or do I interrupt P"

*' You may come,*' Miss Clay answered, rising, " but
I suppose it is time for us to go in."

" Mr. Collier always meets us," I remarked, not quite
amiably, for I preferred keeping Miss Clay to myself.

He laughed, and begged Miss Clay to stay out a little
longer, and she again sat down.

" I left those dreadful children screaming for their
tea," he said ; " it is hardly safe to go near them till
they have been fed. I find it quite a relief to see
a quiet child like Clary, though she receives me so
coldly."

He talked a little of the ride he had been taking, and
then we all fell into silence, and I looked now at the
sky, now at the water, now at the mysterious flats
stretching away in darkness, when suddenly there

SALSETTE. 99

sounded, not very far off, a wild yelling cry, that made
me cling trembling to my companions. It rang out
again more faintly, and then died away in the distance.

" Oh ! what is it ? what is it P" I cried, as soon as I
could speak. '^I hear it at home sometimes, when
I am in bed. What is it that makes that dreadful
noise?"

" Don't be frightened. Clary,** said Mr. Collier ; " it
is nothing that will hurt you. It is just a pack of
hungry jackals fighting for a dead crow, or some such
tit-bit. They would be more afraid of you than you
are of them, I dare say."

**It is a horrible sound, nevertheless," Miss Clay
observed, with a shudder, "I was fancying only just
now, in the brief twilight, that the flats there looked
like an English common, that the cactus-plants might
be furze, and the low bushes heather, and that bees and
butterflies would be hovering there in the morning, and
grey rabbits peeping out of their sandy holes. I never
thought of jackals fighting over their prey. Come,
Clary, you are shaking still ; let us go in."

Mr. Collier took me in his arms and carried me to
the house. As he put me on my feet in the verandah,
a little four-footed hairy creature brushed past me, and
I started aside in great alarm, recollecting, in the next
moment, that it could only be a poor little mangoes I

H 2

100 almeria's castle.

had seen there in the morning, kept for the purpose of
destroying snakes. On entering the lower room^ we
found the twins at tea.

"This is a treat," observed Mr. Collier; "I re-
member that when I used to go to a wild-beast show,
when I was a boy, I always paid twopence extra to see
the animals fed. Here we are admitted gratis."

" For shame ! " cried Miss Clay. " I will not let you
speak in such a way of my little cousins."

" I meant no harm," he answered, with mock gravity.
" Clary, do you join the menagerie P I beg pardon !
Do you drink tea with Miss Clay's little cousins P"

"No, indeed, she does not," Miss Clay answered,
laughing; "Clary is my own little friend, and she
stays by me always."

• " Happy Clary ! " he ejaculated ; and then we all
three went up-stairs. Tea was ready there also, and the
lamps burned brightly, while their glass drops tinkled
with a pleasant sound that betrayed the presence of the
evening breeze. There was much discussion over the
meal as to the morrow's plans, but all was settled at
last, and every one promised to be ready to set forth at
the earliest glimpse of dawn. After I was in bed, with
the mosquito-net safely over me, Miss Clay sang me
softly to sleep with Christmas hymns, and so ended the
earliest Christmas Day I can remember.

GOR A BONDER AND ELEPHANT A.

J E were all astir betimes the next morn-
lEg, Bnatcliiiig a hasty breakfast before
we left the bouse, and then the whole
party, the moon-faced baby excepted-
. in carriages or on horseback some two or
three miles to the bank of the broad river or strait {for
it is really an arm of the sea), beyond the little town of -
Tannah, where the silk-weavers were already at their
looms. Two boats were awaiting us. In the first em-
barked Mrs. Farrer with her husband and children, and
Major Conway ; in the second were Colonel and Miss
Clay, the Dwights, Mr. Collier, and my small self.

102 almeria's castle.

Our vessels were bunder-boats, with good- sized cabins,
on the roofs of which each party proceeded to establish
themselves on cushions ; and we were towed by a little
steam-tug, so as to be independent of wind and tide.
To my recollection that day's voyage seems a vision of
fairy-land. Wooded hills sweeping softly down to
the water's edge, valleys rich in marvellous Eastern
foliage, here and there the ruin of an old Portuguese
church peeping among the trees, cliffs topped with
nodding palms; all these succeeded each other as we
passed along ; and we met native boats, with their great
white sails spread, carrying loads of wood down to
Tannah. Often my companions roused the echoes with
songs, and I lay watching and listening in a state of
dreamy happiness not to be described. But such bliss
could not last for ever. Before we reached our destina-
tion, we had been glad to take refuge from the sun in
the cabin, and were fain to survey the view at a disad-
vantage through the cabin- windows. We landed at a
village opposite to Bassein, called Gorabunder, and
here we found two or three palanquins waiting to con-
vey the ladies and children up a very steep hill, to the
building in which we were to pass the following night.
This was no other than a church, built by the Portu-
guese, and now, used occasionally, alas ! only as a
dwelling. Miss Clay took me into her palanquin, and

GORABUKDEK AND ELEFHANTA. 103

our bearers, with many a gnmt, conveyed us up a steep
ascent of ninety-three steps, and landed us on a plat-
form in front of the church. We were glad to hurry
from the blazing light and heat there, into the shelter
of the building, which had been swept and made ready
for our reception. John had made his arrangements
two days before, and he was already unpacking and
laying out a meal for us on a rude table, that, with a
few chairs, formed the furniture of our strange dining-
hall. This was in the body of the church. In the chancel,
shut out by a heavy door, were several camp-beds for
the ladies and children of the party. The gentlemen
were to sleep in tents on the platform outside, but these
were not pitched till dusk, for the sake of coolness.

There was no lack of good things to eat, and even
the twins were satisfied at last, and sent to lie down
and sleep. Quite early in the afto»^nmy Colonel
Farrer said it was time *o proceed, or there would
not be light enough to see the wonders of Bassein.
A noisy discussion followed, as to who should go and
who should stay. Mrs. Farrer declared she knew
nothing about Bassein, and did not care to go, and
Mrs. Dwight said she had seen so many ruins in her
time, that she did not wish to see any more. Major
Conway took his pipe to one of the chambers that
were on each side of the building,— choosing, naturally.

104 almbria's castle.

one of those to the north, — and was heard of no more
till evening. I heard Mr. Collier advise Miss Clay
not to take me, and I saw she did not like leaving me
behind, though she declined the offer he made to stay
and take care of me. At last it was arranged that I
should be committed to the charge of Mrs. Dwight,
and meantime strive to take a nap, as the twins were
doing ; and then the expedition set forth.

In the cool of the evening, when the twins were
awake, and, refreshed by their slumbers, were rushing
violently into every nook and comer of the church,
while their mother watched them admiringly, Mrs.
Dwight and I stole out to the platform and sat down to
look about us and enjoy the breeze. I did not much
like my companion, who had no notion how to talk to
children, though she had two or three of her own ; but
<ihey wereln-fii^gUmj^ and had left her as mere babies.
At first she attempted a littl© <ionver8ation with me as
we sat together, but my replies only elicited the remark
that I was " an odd little fish," or " an old-fashioned
little quiz," and she soon left me to my own thoughts,
and sang softly to herself in a voice singularly rich and
sweet, to which I listened with pleasure, while feeling
myself free to look about me. Child as I was, I en-
joyed the great beauty of the view. Wooded hills were
around us, with here and there a building — in one spot

GORABUNDER AND ELBF&ANTA. 105

the ruin of a Portuguese convent — peeping from the
dense foliage ; the water rolling hj, broad and deep ;
and^ on its opposite bank, the softly undulating hills
gradually sinking to a long low point, on which we
could just distinguish some of the towers of Bassein,
while the bunder-boat and steamer were moored close
by, waiting for our friends. Over all this loveliness
shone the glory of a tropical sunset. Only too quickly
the sun dropped below the horizon, and it was night.
We lingered till we saw, in the starlight, the gleam of
the returning sail which had been spread to aid the
speed of the steamer. At this sight Mrs. Dwight
stopped her singing, and went in to tell Mrs. Farrer
the news, but I stayed, half-frightened at the solitude,
till Miss Clay herself was beside me.

On this day, Parsee John achieved his greatest
triumph. He had contrived to suspend cocoa-nut lamps
from the sides of the building, so as to give quite a
festal air to the old place. Most of the provisions
spread on the table were cold, but there was abundance
of cofiee sending forth its scented steam ; and a large
bowl of curry, with another of rice, only waited a signal
to be put on the table. It was a cheerful supper, and
not the less so because the exhausted twins had already
been sent to bed. Now and then, when our merriment
was loud, an echo seemed to come from behind the

106 almeria's castle.

door that shut them from our sight ; but, after a titne,
Mrs. Farrer, who went to visit her darlings, announced
that they were happily asleep.

I noticed that Miss Clay looked tired and spoke
little, and, as soon as possible, she rose from the table,
and calling me, took leave of the party for the night.
We peeped through the open door, and saw people
busily pitching two little tents on the platform, and
then we went softly into the place where we were to
sleep. There lay the twins with dishevelled hair, un-
conscious of time and place, and unheeding the voices
and clatter so audible to us.

"This makes me feel very sad. Clary," Miss Clay
said, as she helped me to undress ; " this ruined church
in the midst of all these poor heathens, and we making
merry where prayers were wont to be said. I feel very
guilty, Clary."

" You have not been merry," I said, laying my head
on her shoulder, as I stood beside the bed on which
she had seated herself.

" No, nor you. Clary, I suspect," she said, smiling ;
" I am afraid you did not like my leaving you behind
to-day, but I did not know what perils we might en-
counter among the ruins, and I knew you would be
safe here. As it was, we only saw one cobra, which
Mr. Collier killed with his stick,"

GOBABrNDER AND ELEPHANTA. 107

. " And what else did you see P" I asked.

" Ruins, Clary. S.uins of convents and churches, and
houses and tombs ; and all intermixed with palms and
banyan-trees and lovely creepers. It is a strange, sad
place. The Portuguese took it in 1534 from the King
of Guzerat, and the Mahrattas took it from the Portu-
guese in 1739 — (there is a little bit of historical infor-
mation. Clary, which Mr. Collier gave me to-day !) It
is a city of the Dead."

Meantime, there was a sound of movement in the
church, and presently Mrs. Farrer and Mrs. Dwight
joined us ; the outer doors of the building swung heavily
to^ as the gentlemen passed out to their tents on the
platform ; and all became comparatively quiet. I said
my prayers, with a strange sense of being in a church,
and when I fell asleep, visions flitted before me of the
Portuguese chapel at Bombay as I had seen it through
the open door, the shrine adorned with crowded lights,
and a host of worshippers on the altar- steps, half veiled
by a cloud of incense. In the middle of the night I
woke and gazed round me with bewilderment and fear,
not remembering at first where I was. Strange shadows
came and went on the wall as the lamp flickered in the
breeze, the tramp of a whole army of rats resounded in
the domed roof overhead, ghostly bats flitted to and fro
above my bed, and mysterious noises camd from without^

108 ALMERIA^S CASTLE.

mingled with the murmur of the water. In another
moment I should have screamed^ but the kind face of
Miss Clay bent over me and whispered a few reassuring
words, and I soon fell asleep again.

We were all up at dawn, drinking hot coffee and
eating biscuits; and, after a lingering look from the
platform, we descended the hill to the landing-place,
where our boats awaited us. There was some little
delay, of which Miss Clay took advantage to make a
hasty sketch from the foot of the hill, and then we em-
barked as on the previous day, establishing ourselves on
the roof of the cabin. For some time all went prosper-
ously with us. New beauties in the scenery were ever
coming to light, new songs were sung, new stories told ;
but when we were yet several miles above Tannah, we
were startled by an unearthly scream from the Farrers'
boat, which preceded us, as on the previous day.
Abruptly pausing in the very middle of a song, we
looked eagerly for the cause of the cry, and saw what
I at first supposed to be. five or six cocoa-nuts bobbing
up and down in the river. Something white floating
near them next attracted my attention, and soon I per-,
ceived that one of the twins had fallen into the water,
and that the cocoa-nuts were the heads of the boatmen
who had jumped in to rescue her. A glance at the
other boat showed Colonel Farrer supporting his wife.

60RA6UNDER AND ELEPHANTA. 109

who continued to scream hystericallj and toss her arms
aloft, till she was in imminent peril of following her
child's example. The boatmen, who were nearly as
much at home in the water as on land, had seized the un-
lucky Rose just abreast of our boat. In a moment Miss
Clay had slipped from the cabin-roof, and was standing
on the boat's deck with outstretched arms, bidding the
men give the child to her. Mr. Collier was beside her,
in time to throw a shawl round the child's dripping
form as Miss Clay took it, and hurried into the cabin.
Mr. Collier shouted to Colonel Farrer that Rose was
"all right," indeed her own lungs soon gave loud
evidence of the fact. I asked to be lifted down to the
cabin, and I saw how tenderly Miss Clay soothed the ^
child's terror, and, divesting her of her wet garments,
wrapped the little thing in a cloak, and sat the rest of
the voyage nursing and singing to her. Mr. Collier
did his part, giving spoonfuls of wine and talking in
Hindustani, of which language Miss Clay still knew
but little. The clothes were soon dried in the sun,
and ready to be put 'on before we landed at Tannah,
where we had rather an oppressive scene, as Mrs.
Farrer rushed to embrace her child, and Rose, who
was getting feverish and uneasy as the heat of the
day increased, received her mother's passionate caresses
very unamiably.

110 almeria's castle.

The silk-looms were at work as we passed the pretty-
little town of Tannah, with its English church ; and
within half-an-hour we reached home and found the
baby flourishing. Mr. Collier took Rose from Miss
Clay and carried her to a couch, where she lay flushed
and restless, showing no particular desire for any thing
but to keep Miss Clay near her. Colonel Clay had
remained in the porch, giving orders for the carriage
that was to convey us back to Bombay in the evening.
When he came into the lower room, he approached his
daughter and said, " I have told them to bring the
carriage at four o'clock, Anne. Will that suit you ?"

Mrs. Farrer looked up with an expression of dismay.

" Oh, Anne ! " she cried, " surely you don't mean to
leave me with this poor child on my hands, after I have
been so ill and agitated? And after poor baby has
been so ill too?"

Miss Clay looked at her father, who hesitated a
moment, and then said,

" I will wait for you, Anne, if you wish it, till to-
morrow morning. That is the utmost I can do. Farrer
must go to-night, I know."

So Colonel Farrer rode away, promising to let my
parents know why I did not make my appearance. Mrs.
Farrer said her nerves were sadly shattered, and she
could scarcely move from the sofa all the evening. Mrs.

GOKABUNDEB AND ELEPHANTA. Ill

Dwight was tired, and went early to her room, so the
care of little Rose devolved entirely on Miss Clay, who
looked more in need of rest than any one. Her father
commented on her pale cheeks, and Mr. Collier fretted
and fumed, made severe remarks on the selfishness of
human nature, and shot many a fierce glance towards
the insensible Mrs. Farrer. Mr. Dwight and Major
Conway loudly triumphed in the sagacity which had
led them to prognosticate that the presence of the twins
would lead to mischief in our expedition, and the even-
ing was altogether uncomfortable. When I opened
my eyes in the night, I saw Miss Clay, who had not
imdressed, passing to and fro between her room and an
adjoining one where Rose had been placed with her
ayah ; but in the morning, when she called me to get
up, she looked smiling and happy, and told me the child
was well and in a delicious sleep.

When we were dressed, and had taken the breakfast
which John sent to our room. Miss Clay and I went to
take leave of Mrs. Farrer, whom we found sitting up
in her bed, wrapped in muslin and blue ribbons, sipping
a cup of cofiee.

"Well, good-bye, Anne," she said; "Fm sure I
don't know what I'm to do without you, for I feel all
shaken to pieces. You may think yourself happy that
you're not all made up of nerves as I am. I believe

112 almeria's castle.

I've a double allowance of them. I quite envied you
yesterday, so calm and unmovedy when that poor child
was actually drowning. Good-bye, little Grantham/'
she continued, holding out one finger, which, in my
indignation, I appeared not to see. '' I shall be at home
on Saturday, Anne, and I hope I shall find you in your
old quarters."

I did not hear Miss Clay's answer, but as I walked
down-stairs holding her hand, I felt that I was very
glad to part with Mrs. Farrer, and that I regretted no
one but Mr. Collier. To my surprise we found him
below, ready to go with us to Bombay, and I took my
seat in the carriage beside him and opposite to my dear
friend and her father, with a light and happy heart.

" So much for a party of pleasure ! " exclaimed
Colonel Clay, as we drove from the door. " Every one
of us, even that child, is glad it is over."

"Nay, sir," said Mr. Collier, " don't be unjust. We
really have had a great deal of enjoyment, and if the
menagerie had been left at home, we should have had
nothing to complain of. I mean," he added, as Miss
Clay held up a warning finger, "if those dear little
cousins of Miss Clay's had been left behind by their
doting mother, our trip would have been a success."

"Perhaps," Colonel Clay replied, shrugging his
shoulders ; " but I am too old to enjoy such things, I

GORABUNDEB AND ELEFHANTA. 113

suppose. I did not know you were such a child-hater,
CoUier/^

"Oh dear no, I deny the soft impeachment/' ex-
claimed Mr. Collier ; " I adore childhood in the abstract
— I like well-behaved children uncommonly. Now,
here is Miss Grantham, though whether she really is a
child or only a small elderly lady I have never felt quite
sure. If the former, however, I trust she will speak a
good word for me, as, though cold in manner to me
when I appear at unwelcome times, she often shows her-
self gracious and friendly. We are good friends, Clary,
are we not?"

" Once I did not like you at all," I answered, " but
I shall always like you now very much."

"And whence this happy change of sentiment.
Clary P" he asked ; " why do you like me now ?"

"Because you are so kind to Miss Clay," I said. My
answer proved so diverting to him and to Colonel Clay,
that I was quite abashed, and could not hold up my
head for some time. When I was sufficiently composed
to attend to the conversation again, I found Colonel
Clay was talking of the house he intended to take, and
of his desire to move into it before the following Satur-
day.

" Oh ! are you going to move P" I cried, in alarm.

" Only a little way. Clary," Miss Clay said ; " only

I

114 almeria's castle.

to the bouse with the pretty mimosa-trees just opposite
to yours. You will be able to come to me still every
morning, and as my papa will not be able to get away
to the hills during the hot weather, and your papa told
me he was going to remain on Malabar Hill, we shall
be neighbours for a long time to come/'

This was joyful news indeed, and it gave me spirit to
laugh at Mr. Collier's jokes, even when they were a
little at my own expense. They were too kind ever to
wound me. I even helped him to teach Miss Clay the
names of some of the trees we passed ; the varieties of
palm ; the peepul with its hanging suckers, that looked
like shabby frayed rope tending earthwards to take
root; the tamarinds with lovely light foliage; and
many another now forgotten. In return, I asked the
meaning of the occasional stone crosses by the wayside,
and was told they were relics of the times when Salsette
belonged to the Portuguese. Much more was told me
of the history of the country, but I fear it soon passed
from my treacherous memory.

It was pleasant to be clasped in my father's arms
again, and to see my mother's dear face brighten at
sight of me. Even Mrs, Armstrong said she was glad
I had come home ; and my cat came purring round my
feet, as if she too desired to make me welcome.

Before the. following Satmrday, Colonel and Miss

GORABUNDEB AND ELEP11ANTA. 115

Clav were settled in their new home. Like all the
other gentlemen around us, Colonel Clay went daily to
his office in the fort, and his daughter, who still made
her mourning an excuse for living in much seclusion,
again devoted her mornings to me, and a part of every
afternoon to my mother. The pretty pictures that had
adorned the little bungalow when Miss Clay was Mrs.
F&rrer's guest, were now hung on the walls of a room
screened off from the large drawing-room of the new
house ; the gazelle was tethered near the windows, and
pots of lovely flowers were ranged the whole length of
the verandah. Even here we were not always safe
from intrusion. Sometimes when we turned from the
piano, we found a Bohra, or pedler, established in the
verandah, with a strange medley of wares spread around
him, — Cashmere scarves, macassar oil, needles, soap,
calico, and a thousand things besides, — ^not to be dis-
couraged by all Miss Clay's attempts to assure him she
wanted nothing, and asking extravagantly ridiculous
prices, which rapidly diminished, in the hope of
attracting her notice and softening her indifference.
Often it was a store of the pretty inlaid ivory and
sandal- wood articles manufactured in the country, that
was laid out for our inspection ; or agates from Surat ;
or books in all languages, bought up at a sale; or
muslin embroidery brought by some picturesque old

I 2

116 almeria's castle.

bearded Jew from Calcutta. The interruptions were
not always convenient, but they were often amusing.

About the end of January, Miss Clay invited my
father and me to join in an expedition to Elephanta. I
had often seen the double-headed green island from the
shore, and I was charmed at the thought of exploring
it. We had a large open boat, and our party consisted
of the Clays, Colonel and Mrs. Farrer (not the twins
this time), Mr. Collier, and ourselves. The wind was
fair, and filled our great white sail as we crossed, but
the tide would not allow the boat to go close in, so
the boatmen jumped into the water and carried us on
shore in a chair, without further misadventure than
a threatening of hysterics from -Mrs. Farrer, when her
bearer's foot slipped on a stone. Colonel Clay offered
her his arm and led the way, and the rest of the party
followed slowly up the grassy path, winding among
the trees to the celebrated caves. Miss Clay was like
a child herself as she and I picked up pods of tama-
rinds that lay under the trees, and enjoyed the pleasant
sharpness of the fruit, or plucked handfuls of a lovely
white bell-shaped creeper with purple eye, that grew
in profusion over the bushes. She had not been long
enough in India to dread that every stick in the path
might prove a reptile ; or, at any rate, on this evening
she had forgotten all such fears. We reached the

GORABUNDEB AND ELBPHANTA. 117

caves only too soon, and my companions were all
engrossed with the caryed weird figures on the walls,
which half frightened me. I preferred looking through
the opening, and seeing, below festoons of leaves and
flowers, the wooded height of Caranja and the blue sea.
After a while, we all sat down in front of the cave to
wait for the darkness, a proceeding I could not at all
understand, for I longed to leave behind me that
fearM place, with all its heathenish images, which
yet had such a fascination for me, that I could not
help looking over my shoulder now and then, as I
nestled down between my father and Miss Clay.

Some one suggested that we wanted some amusement
to pass away the time, and Miss Clay was asked to sing.

" It is not easy," she replied, " to think of a song
suited to this place, but there is one that I believe may
do, if I can remember the words. It has the merit of
being dismal enough for any thing."

She began in a low voice, that soon swelled to its
usual clear ringing sound ; the air was wild, and in a
minor key, and Mr. Collier joined in occasionally,
especially in the refrain.

BALLAD:

" A face is at the window, sorrowful and white.
At the Castle window, all the livelong night ;

118 almeria's castle.

A mournful voice is sounding over lawn and lea^

* Come, my bonny children, come again to me !
Down the stormy valley, o'er the gloomy sea.
My sons, my bonny darlings, come again to me ! '

" In the stormy valley, down below the hill.
Lies one bonny darling, cold, and pale, and still ;
The raven croaks beside him, the rain is falling fast,
The bare and ghostly larches quail and shiver in the

blast.
He cannot hear the wailing that sounds o'er lawn and

lea,

* My sons, my bonny darlings, come again to me !'

" Is this a broken flower that lies along the sand.
Borne by the angry breakers, and tossed but now to

land?
Of all the bonny children, the bonniest is there.
All pale and cold and silent, with sea- weeds in his hair.
The wailing cry is heard not beside the gloomy sea,
' My sons, my bonny darlings, come again to me ! '

" Swirls the bitter night-wind o'er the battle-plain.
Above the crowds of dying, and o'er the heaps of slain.
It stirs the curls that cluster around a golden head.
The first among the fearless, and first among the dead.

GORAEUNDER AND ELEPHANTA. 119

Ifo more to hear the wailing that sounds o'er lawn and

lea^
* My sons, my bonny darlings, come again to me ! '

" Still the face is watching, sorrowful and white,
At the castle window, all the livelong night ;
Still the voice is sounding over lawn and lea,
' Come, my bonny children, come again to me !
Down the stormy valley, o'er the gloomy sea.
My sons, my bonny darlings, come again to me ! ' "

The mere words can give very little idea of the effect
of the song, sung so sweetly, with the shadows falling
over the scenery outside, and the gloom deepening in
the "chamber of imagery" behind us. We were all
silent for awhile when it ceased, and every one else
started when Mrs. Farrer spoke.

" Really, Anne," she said, " you ought to know better
than to sing such a song. I never heard any thing so
dreary in all my life. -4s if it wasn't enough to send
one into a quiver to sit here within reach of those
frightful faces, but you must needs tell us of a horrible
white one looking out of a castle window ! "

Mr. Collier looked at my father, and groaned; but
Miss Clay only laughed, and begged to be forgiven.

The daylight was nearly gone now. We could no

120 almbria's castle.

longer distingoisli the little red and yellow fruit on a
large tree nearly opposite to the mouth of the cave^
though on our first arrival it had looked so bright, that
we might have thought the branches were laden with
jewels, like the trees in Aladdin's magical garden. So
we rose and turned towards the caye. In a moment
the whole interior was illuminated with dazzling
blue-lights, that showed every face and figure of the
strange carvings, far more distinctly than daylight
had done. At the farther end were the three gigantic
faces, the centre one calm and grand, but all seeming
to me BO stem and awful, that I was thankful when
the lights died away, and we left the cave and walked
down in the moonlight to the boat. The men took to
their oars, and rowed us home, all being very silent ;
and I watched the water that dropped from the oars
and glistened like pearls as the moonbeams touched
them, imtil I fell asleep, and dreamt of Miss Clay's
song.

CHAPTER Vn.

FEVER DREAMS.

a HE day after our trip to Elepliaiita, I felt
strangely tired, and coinplamed of head-
ache, eo I Btayed all day in my mother's
room, lying very still, and scarcely heeding
who came or went. After this, there came a period of
confusion, for I had a sharp attack of fever, I recol-
lect opening my eyes one night, and seeing my father
writing at a tahle in my room. I watched him without
speaking ; and presently there came trooping in through
the open door, ahout a dozen of little figures, who
ranged themselves round my bed. My father went on
writing, and did not seem to see the strange visitors, bo

122 almeria's castlb.

I lay and watched them without speaking. They all
had close-fitting dresses, of yellow colour, with black
spots, and their grotesque faces wore a constant grin.
They stood "mopping and mowing" for some time,
and then suddenly each one expanded till he became
a giant^ and his head touched the ceiling, and the next
minute each contracted again to a dwarfish size; and
this performance was repeated again and again. By
and by they left the bedside, and ranged themselves in
a row, still without a sounds for a game at leapfrog,
such as I had seen represented in one of my English
picture-books. This was so diverting, with the con-
stant changes in the size of the performers, that I
laughed aloud, and my father left his writing, and came
to see what caused my amusement.

"Don't stand just there, please, papa," I cried, "I
want to see that poor tittle dwarf jump. Oh ! what a
shame! The other one grew up into a giant just as
the poor little thing was taking the leap, but he has
gone over, all the same. Well done, little fellow!
Did you ever see such fun, papa?" and I tried to clap
my hands, which, for some reason, seemed almost too
heavy for me to lift. My father did not seem to share
my amusement, or to care to look at the game that was
still going on round and round the room.

"You must try to be quiet, Clary," he said, very

FEVER DREAMS. - 123

gravely. " I will darken the room, and you must shut
your eyes, and try to go to sleep."

"But I sha'n't be able to see the merry little men," I
cried piteously, as he carried the light into the adjoin-
ing room.

**You have seen enough for to-night," he replied,
when he returned ; and sitting down beside me, tried to
soothe my excitement, crooning a nursery song that at
length sent me to sleep.

Another evening, I know not how long afterwards, I
opened my eyes, and saw some one sitting near my bed,
' reading. I could not mistake the sweet face, and the
pretty light hair; it was Miss Clay. I watched her,
without caring to speak, and for a long time there was
neither sound nor movement in the room ; but by and
by something dark peeped slily in at the open door.
On and on it crept, a hairy beast, with pointed ears,
cruel eyes, and large white teeth in its half-opened
mouth. After it came another, and another, till the
room was filled with the fearful creatures. I knew
what they were ; I remembered the cry we had heard
as we sat by the tank in Salsette, and the animal I had
once seen prowling about the flats in the early morn-
ing, when I was with my father. It was a herd of
jackals that had come into my very room, round the
bed where I lay ! Still Miss Clay read on, imheed-

124 almekia'^s castle.

ing, till I uttered a shriek that brought her at once to
,my side.

" Hush, my little Clary/' she said gently, as she bent
over me, after drawing aside the mosquito-net ; " don't
frighten your poor mamma. What is the matter, my
child?"

I flung my arms round her neck, and cried, " Why
did you let them come in P Why don't you drive them
awayP Look, look! they will come on my bed pre-
sently! They will make that horrid noise that you
said you didn't like ! Why do you ask me what is the
matter, when those horrid jackals are all round my
bedP"

''Poor little Clary!" she said, kissing me. "I will
try to put every thing right for you, but you know I
can't do any thing while you hold me so fast. Now,
that is right ; lie down and shut your eyes, and I will
see what I can do."

She darkened the room, as my father had done,
bathed my head with some cool mixture, and sang
softly, till I fell asleep. But my adventures for this
night were not over yet, for I had a dream so strangely
vivid, that I awoke from it with a cry of terror, and
it was long before my kind friend could soothe me.
I thought I was once more in the great cave of Ele-
phanta, and the keen blue light was shining into every

FEVER DREAMS. 125

hole and crevice, and on all the monstrous figures.
But even as I looked, it seemed as if life came into all
the images ; some moved their many hands, some
opened and shut their stony eyes. Worst of all were
the three gigantic faces. The fierce one gazing on a
cobra, wreathed its brows into a yet more angry frown,
and the cobra lifted its crest menacingly ; but it was
when the lips of the central face seemed to move, that
my terror reached its climax, and I woke with a cry
that brought my father, as well as Miss Clay, to my
side. It was a long time before they could quiet me,
and when at last I promised to lie still and try to sleep,
I heard my father say, '' It was an unlucky excursion
for poor Clary."

"Yes," Miss Clay answered, "I suppose we ought
not to have let her go to sleep in the boat."

Her words reminded me of the quiet row home, the
pearly drops glistening in the moonlight, and the
regular beat of the oars ; and thinking of all these, I
slept again,

I know not how many days had passed after this,
when one evening I woke and looked for one of my usual
watchers, — ^my father. Miss Clay, or Mrs. Armstrong,
—and saw a most unexpected figure in their accus-
tomed seat. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. There
could be no doubt of the fact; my old friend Tom

126 almeria's castle.

Stubbs, with a pair of huge bom spectacles on bis nose,
and a newspaper in bis band, was tbe only person in
tbe room besides myself.

"Tom ! " I exclaimed in amazement ; "Tom Stubbs ! "
He laid down tbe paper, and came to me witbout a
sound, for be bad taken off bis boots and left tbem in
tbe passage outside. Tbere was bis round reddisb-
brown face looking down on me witb sucb a comical air
of perplexity, tbat I could not belp laugbing.

" Ab ! missy, laugb away," be said, " I daresay you
tbink its a queer sort of nurse-tender you've got to-
nigbt ; but I beard you was ill, missy, and so I asked
for a week's leave and came bere, and begged and
prayed of your pa to let me belp take care of ye, and so
at last be said Yes. So be turned in about an bour ago
to get a good sleep, and I promised to call bim if be
was wanted."

" Don't call bim," I replied ; " I don't want bim, if
you'll come close and talk to me."

" I was to be careful about tbat, missy," be said,
" and not let you talk too mucb."

" Can you sing, Tom P " I asked, as be took a seat
beside my bed.

His wbole frame sbook witb laugbter, tbougb be
made no noise.

" Sing, missy P Bless you ! " be said, as soon as be

FEVER DREAMS. 127

could speak ; '' I can sing out fast enough in a gale of
^nd, but as to singing of songs and such Kke, why it
didn't form no part of my edication, and if I was to
tip you a stave of one of my sea-ditties, such as ' Hearts
of Oak/ or the ' Eoast Beef of Old England/ I should
make such a noise that I should blow the roof off or bring
the walls down. No, missy, my woice is all very well
in a nor-wester aboard ship, but it don't do ashore."

" Then you must tell me a story, Tom," I pleaded.
" You used to tell me very nice stories at the light-
house, so tell me one now."

" I'm sure I shall be proud, missy. There, let me
toss up your pillow first /' and the rough sailor did so
as skilfully and gently as a woman, then took off his
spectacles, and began his tale.

m

" In course, missy," he said, "I know better than to
be thinking of such a thing here, but it don't feel
natural to be spinning a yam without, the help of a
pipe in my mouth. A whiff of good baccy helps a man
on wonderful, so you must grant your pardon if I'm
a bit stupid. What you said just now, missy, about me
singing, put me in mind of that Mounseer I once
spoke to ye about, him as went to Labrador curosity-
huntiug. He'd have had to go farther than that,
missy, to find a greater curosity than himself! He •
was a middle-sized active-made man, with a long brown

128 ALMERIA^S CASTLE.

beard and moustacliioSf and a steady look in his eye, as
if nothing would daunt him, — and nothing did, as ever
I see. But he was the fellow for singing, missy, and
for playing of the fiddle ! I believe he loved his fiddle
best of any thing. He had a waterproof bag to put
it in, and he used to strap it on his back when he
was going ashore, and when he'd a spare minute, out
it 'ud come, and he'd play like a wild creature. Some-
times it was a sad moanin' sort of tune, that would
make your blood run cold, then all on a sudden he'd
change it to such a dancin' merry music that you
couldn't sit still. And then he'd sing to it so as you
could almost understand the words, in spite of their
being in his own queer outlandish tongue. ' Tom,' says
he to me one day, as I was rowing him ashore, and he
sat in the stem-sheets smokin' his everlasting pipe as
he steered the boat, ' Tom,' says he, ' my pipe is my
shild, that I love tender; but my fiddle, Tom, my
fiddle is my wife, my joy, my pride ! best of all, dearest
of all ! ' I couldn't help laughing, though I was used to
his strange talk. Those Mounseers have a way with
them, more like a play-actor than a plain, quiet Eng-
lishman, so I never was much surprised, except one
day, and I'll tell ye how that was, missy. I went
ashore one morning with him on the coast of Labrador.
A sweet pretty place it was, with dwarf woods of fir

FEVER DREAMS. 129

and birch coming down to the shore of an inlet, and
a sparkling river leaping down over some black rocks
at the further end. We landed^ sent the boat back,
saying we'd make a signal when we wanted her to fetch
us, and then we climbed up the bank and looked about
us. Mounseer had his fiddle on his back and his pipe
in his mouth, a fishing-rod in his hand, and all his
pockets filled out with tin boxes for fiowers, and bottles
for insects, a hammer for chipping of stones, and all
manner of out-of-the-way things. On his head he wore
a straw hat with a blue gauze veil tied to it, in case the
mosquitoes should trouble him. However, the pipe
generally kept them off best, I carried some provisions
for our dinner, an air-gun of Mounseer's, a game-bag,
and some fishing-tackle. Atop of the bank we found
some sloping ground with short grass, and we trudged
across it till we came to a lake as clear and blue as you
could wish to see. We stopped for Mounseer to set
some fishing-lines, and then on we went again, through
a little wood where the young spruces smelt very sweet
in the hot sun. We had some trouble to force our way
along, the bushes grew so thick, but Mounseer found a
new kind of ugly brown beetle about as big as a fly, so
he was as happy as a king, and whenever he took his
pipe out of his mouth, he sang away like any bird. By
noon we'd gone a long way inland, and we^d got two or

K

130 almeria's castle.

three more insects^ and a bird, and a couple of fish,
BO we sat down to rest and to eat the dinner we'd
brought with us. I can tell you, missy, we were glad
enough to sit down, and it was a pleasant sort of place.
I've seen some pretty carpets in my time, up the Per-
sian Gulf, nearly as soft as a bed need be, and made up
of all manner of bright colours ; but, bless ye, missy,
they was nothing for softness or for brightness to the
bank I saw that day in Labrador. The little flowers
perked up their pretty heads among the grass and the
mosses, and I don't suppose you ever did see such
mosses as they, missy. Some were all in branches
tipped with red, like coral, and some was all blue and
bright like steel. Mounseer laid his pipe down on the
ground beside him, and ate his dinner like a hero, and
then he said, * Now, Tom, we will have music. Such a
day, such a scene, such a lovely brown beetle, such a
rare small spider, they all must have one hymn of
triumph ;' and so he took out the fiddle and played and
sang for half an hour. Then he put his pipe in his
mouth, and we took up our goods and began to walk
back by a fresh path. It was not an easy way to go,
for there was black bog here and there ; however, we
came at last to the lake again, and here we stopped, and
found some fish on the lines and a queer insect in the
beetle-trap, so Mounseer was delighted, and said he

FEVER DREAMS. 131

must have a swim in tbe lake, and I was to go over the
hill and make a signal to the yacht to send a boat
ashore for us. It was a hard pull up the hill, and took
me a long time. Once I looked back and saw Moun-
seer swimming about like a fish, then I toiled on again
and got to the top of the steep pitch. But the men
aboard the schooner were looking for us lower down,
and they never saw my signals, so I was obliged to go.
on ever so much farther before they would heed me.
At last I saw the boat push off from the yacht, and
then I began to wonder what had become of Mounseer,
There was no sign of him far or near, and by this time
it was getting late in the afternoon, and heavy clouds
were threatening from the west. There was nothing
for it but to go and look for him, for he was just as
likely as not, to forget where he was and all about
it ; so, ^fter resting for a spell, I began ploddihg up
the hill again. Well, missy, I got to the top at last,
and there I did see a wonderful sight. There was
the lake in course, where I'd left it, and on the fur-
ther bank there was Mounseer, dressed, and with his
pipe in his mouth, sitting under a bush and playing
away like mad on his fiddle,— but beyond him, missy,
the country was on fire! The flames came dancing
on, closer and closer, over the dry bog-grass and
moss and bushes, driven by the westerly wind, and

K 2

132 almeria's castle.

sending up clouds of smoke. But Mounseer never
heard or saw any thing of it ; his fiddle was all the
world to him then.

" I've seen a pictur'," continued Tom, " of a king —
I think his name was Nebuchadnezzar, for I know it
began with a N, missy,— playing on a fiddle, with roses
on his head, and the city of Carthage a-blazing away
in the distance. This pictur' reminded me of Mounseer
the minute I saw it, only, you see, he had his pipe, and
he hadn't no roses, only his old straw hat. Well,
missy, I knew 'twas no sort of use to shout, so I ran
down over the hill, timibling among the stones and
bushes, and reached Mounseer before the fire caught
the bushes behind him. He didn't see me till I was
right upon him, and then he woke up, and I turned

him round and showed him the fire. He put up his

*

fiddle, took his boxes and fishing-lines, and came with
me, talking all the time, and thanking me for coming
for him.

'* ' Good Tom ! ' he said, patting my shoulder ; ' but
for you there might be one big roast goose more in the
world.* I saw not, I heard not. Good Tom ! '

** * Never mind, Mounseer,' I said, only come on out
of the smoke ;* and at last I got him down to the boat,
just as the flames were coming crackling up the hill
among the young spruces that had smelt so sweet in the

FEVER DRRAMS. 133

morning. As we were going off in the boat, he cried
out, 'My brown beetle, Tom! Is my brown beetle
safe?'

" I felt a little bothered with him and his beetle, and
so I said, * yes, Mounseer, it's all safe,' and then I
muttered to myself, * What's a brown beetle ? ' Moun-
seer heard me, though I didn't mean he should.

" * Tom,' he said, speaking very sharp, * you are one
stupid, one ignorant, one lout! You know no more
than one pig.'

" I was hurt he should speak like that to me, so I said,
'You needn't say that to me, Mounseer, just this
minute, when I'm puffing away like a porpoise with
saving the life of your fiddle, if I didn't save your own.'

"'Forgive me, Tom,' he said, 'I was one pig myself
to speak so. You shall forgive "me, brave Tom, you
shall give me your hand ; and to-morrow you shall see
in my cabin such things as shall make you leap for

joy-'

" When he got on the schooner's deck he looked back
at the shore, and saw the flames flickering over the
hill- side, where they found so much wood that they
made a grand show. Mounseer took his pipe out of his
mouth, and said to me very solemn, 'Brave Tom,
whence came all that fire ? '
. "'I think, Mounseer,' I said, 'a spark must have

134 ALMERIA^S CASTLE.

fallen out of your pipe, when you laid it down beside
you while you ate your dinner. The ground was damp
and boggy there, so it took some time to kindle ; that's
ray notion.'

" ' Brave Tom, so it must be. But we should have a
march of triumph for the flame-king.'

" And so he took out his fiddle again, and played as
quick as his fingers could go ; but presently the fire had
burnt down to the shore, and died out for want of fuel,
so Mounseer stopped a minute, and said, ^We should
have a lament, Tom, for the trees and the flowers ;' and
then he played the dismallest tune that ever I heard,
like the wind in a keyhole, so that I begged and' prayed
of him to stop; and he laughed, and went into his
cabin.

" Next day he called me when I was off duty. ' Brave
Tom,' says he, *you ask. What is one brown beetle?
Come, and you shall see : and he showed me through a
glass the different parts of the little insect. There was
the beautifullest gauzy wings, missy, folding in under
the brown sort of sheath ; there was his little eye and
his little tongue ; and last of all, there was the joint of
his leg.

"'Look at that,' says Mounseer, skipping round the
table ; ' see how perfect, and then think how clumsy,
how rough, how awkward will seem all human work, all

FEVER DREAMS. 135

hnman machine! Brave Tom, never say any more,
"What 18 a brown beetle?" See how the great God
cared to make it so perfect, so fit for where He put it.
Ah ! beaatiful, beautiful ! *

" Well, missy, I think I was more respectful to dumb
things ^ver after ; but I never see a beetle, brown or
bhick, without thinking of Mounseer and his fiddle, and
his wonderful glass.''

" What became of him, Tom ?" I inquired.

" He died, missy, not long after. He caught a cold
looking after creatures, and he was sick a long time.
The man that nursed him told me that the day Moun-
seer died, he would be dressed and sit by the window,
just the same as usual. All on a sudden a little fly
buzzed up the pane. ' A new specimen ! * says Mounseer,
as eager as ever, and caught the fly and corked him up
in a bottle ; and before the fly had done skidding up
and down in the bottle, poor Mounseer passed away to
the other world. But there, missy, I hadn't ought to
talk to you of that part of the story. Mounseer was a
good man, and I loved him well. It 'ud be a tiresome
world, you know, missy, if every one was cut out on the
same pattern.

" And now, missy," continued Tom, drawing from his
pocket a huge silver watch, whose ticking I had heard
as an accompaniment all through his story, "now,

136 almckia's C.%:?TI.C

roisAVy it's time for me to put a stopper on my tongae,
and for jou to take the doctor's stnA It a'n't so Tery
nasty I daresaTy missr, and I'm sure too'II take it well,"
and poor Tom's solitary eye twinkled anxiously as he
handed me the cup. The contents were really not
disagreeable, so I drank them without a wry face,
evidently much to the old sailor's relief. He gave me
great praise. ** That's good, missy," he said, " better
nor I could ha' done it myself; and here's a few grapes
I got for ye in the Bazaar as I was coming along. Now
you'll go off to sleep, won't ye ? just to make your pa
trust old Tom again."

I thanked him, yawned, and in two minutes was
asleep, without any visions of merry-men or jackals, which
from that time troubled me no more. I recovered very
slowly, however, for I had been ill several weeks, and
now the hot season had set in, and it was scarcely pos-
sible to regain strength in so high a temperature. Tom
returned to the lighthouse at the end of a week's leave,
having sat up with me four nights, and amused me
much with the yarns he delighted to spin. He was
not satisfied with the progress I had made, and strongly
advised a trip on the sea, which he believed to be the
cure for all ills. I was now carried daily to my
mother's room, where I lay on a couch taking but little
notice of any thing, and feeling weak and weary. I

FEVER DREAMS. 137

remember that Miss Clay came with golden bananas, or
mangoes, or delicate custard -apples, and I liked to listen
while she talked to my mother, and to watch her
moving softly about the room. I once heard her say
that she felt the heat very much, and that her father
was often threatening to send her away ; and after that
I dreaded, every time she came, to hear her say she was
going. In the evenings my father carried me into the
verandah, or walked slowly up and down the garden
with me in his arms ; and when I was able to go, Miss
Clay took me for a drive ; but there was no freshness in
the air day or night, the earth was dried up every where,
and the trees were laden with dust. We used to pause
if we passed a tank, where the great wheel, with earthen
pots attached to it, was swinging round and emptying
the water into the wooden trough, from which the
bheesties (or water-carriers) filled skins, to carry on
the backs of bullocks to the houses far and near. In
other tanks, the dark grey buflfaloes were wallowing in
the mud. Every thing seemed gasping for the rain,
which would not come yet, for we were only at the
beginning of May.

One evening, when Miss Clay was sitting in the
verandah beside my mother's couch, while I lay near on
the floor with a cushion under my head, we saw Tom
Stubbs enter the compound. He took off his hat when

138 almeria's castle.

he saw us, and wiped bis face, which glowed with the
heat like iron from the furnace.

" My dooty to you, ladies," he said, as he drew near.
"I couldn't be bappy any longer without a sight of
little missy. Ah!" he exclaimed, as I rose and held
out my hand, " the little face is pale, missy, like a weeny
white rabbit a-peeping out of a hole. Excuse me,
ma'am," and he turned to my mother, "you know
fast enough I don't mean no disrespect to little
missy."

"Indeed I know you mean nothing but kindness,
Mr. Stubbs," replied my mother. "I have never yet
told you how grateful I was for your good nursing
when she was so ill."

" Never mention it, ma'am," he said, " I'd be proud
to do it fifty times over."

My mother called to Ali to bring a chair for Mr.
Stubbs, and then begged the old sailor to sit down,
which he did, laying his hat on the ground beside him,
and proceeding to wipe his face again with a red and
yellow handkerchief.

"Very hot weather, ma'am," he remarked to Miss
Clay, who stood very high in his favour ; " I'm afeard
you're losin' the purty roses you brought from the old
country so lately."

" Indeed I fear so, Mr. Stubbs," she answered, smiling.

FEVER DREAMS. 139

" I think you must wish yourself on an iceberg some-
times. I am sure I could wish it myself."

He laughed one of his silent laughs, and then said,
" Well, ma'am, I think I a'most could wish it, always
perwiding there wasn't no bear aboard the berg."

" Clary has amused us yery much with some of your
adventures," observed my mother ; " we often make her
tell us about them,— at least, we did so before her
illness. She has not strength to talk much now."

"No, indeed, ma'am," he said, shaking his head
ruefully, " stooin' don't suit her. It was strange enough,
but when I caught sight of her to-day, she reminded
me of the old times she and I sometimes talk over,
when I was with Mounseer up at Labrador."

" How was that P Do tell us," said Miss Clay.

"Why, I must tell ye, ladies, there's some good
people goes out to those parts, to make Christians of the
poor Micmac Indians. Moravians they call themselves,
and a power of good they do, for which may God bless
them ! It's a lonesome, dreary, self-denyin' kind of life
they lead, and just once a year comes a ship with letters
from home, and clothes and things. Well ! you'll be
wondering why missy's little face should make me
think of these people, but I'll tell ye, ma'am. Mounseer
and I was a- visiting a Moravian family at a settlement
they have, called Nain, and the mistress showed us in

140 almeria's castle.

the window, a poor weak geranium-plant and two or
three single white pinks ; and ' Look/ says she, with
tears in her eyes, * I brought them from home with me
three years ago, and I've kept them alive all this while,
in spite of the ice and snow.' Now, missy looks a
trifle like those poor plants, meaning no offence, ladies."

" We all look a little so, except you, Mr. Stubbs,"
Miss Clay said cheerfully, perhaps because she caught
my mother's anxious glance towards me. " The rains
will come and refresh us next month."

Just then my father returned from his office, and his
arrival gave a turn to the conversation.

Towards the middle of May, Colonel Clay grew so
anxious about his daughter, that he accepted the offer
made him by a Parsee merchant, of the loan of a villa
at Khandalla, a village in the Ghauts, and determined
on taking her thither. She immediately came to try to
persuade my mother to go too, and to take me ; but my
mother declined for herself, while thankfully consenting
that I should go with my kind friend. Accordingly,
one evening I found myself again in the bunder-boat
we had used on the Tannah river, crossing from
Mazagon Harbour, where we embarked, to Panwell on
the mainland. We were late, yet the sea-breeze that
blew was only a mockery of coolness. It was very dark
as we approached Panwell, and we found the landing-

FEVER DREAMS. 141

place blocked up with a number of boats, from which,
lighted by torches, a regiment of English troops was
disembarking. An oflScer called out from the shore to
Colonel Clay, to beg that he would kindly consent to
wait till the soldiers were on shore, as the removal of
their boats to make way for ours would occasion much
trouble and delay. Colonel Clay courteously acceded
to the request, so we lay-to at a little distance from the ,
crowded quay, and a servant who accompanied us began
to prepare some refreshment at the other end of the
boat. Meantime we niounted the roof of the cabin, and
tried to see in what sort of place we were stopping, but
our eyes could not penetrate the darkness beyond a few
yards. The torches flashed on each soldier as he sprang
on shore, and on the officer who stood by, list in hand,
and we could hear each name called out, and each man's
response, but there was no other sound save the welter-
ing of the water, and the sigh of the breeze among the'
weeds and bushes at the head of the creek.

" Come down," Colonel Clay said hastily ; " come into
the cabin, Anne ; the land-wind is blowing, and a heavy
dew falling. It is not safe for you or the child."

I was not sorry to come down, for my poor little
body, weakened by illness and relaxed by the heat of
Bombay, was already shivering. There was a lamp in
the cabin, and presently Framjee (a worthy rival of

142 almeria's castle.

the Farrers' Parsee John) brought us some steaming
coffee, of which we all partook with great satisfaction ;
and then Miss Clav made a bed for me on the cabin-
seat, where I soon slept more soundly than I had done
for many a night past. When I awoke, I was in a
carriage, the grey light was breaking over dry and
dusty plains, and far away before us, with varied out-
lines and patches of green wood on their sides, rose the
mountains to which we were going. They seemed
already so near, that I thought our journey was even
then ending ; nevertheless, we drove on for nearly two
hours more before we stopped at their foot. Palan-
quins were awaiting us, and we pressed on at once, as
the sun was already hot, and Colonel Clay was eager to
get his daughter under shelter as soon as possible. She
and I went together, the bearers grunting, and some-
times chanting a rude song, as they went up the steepest
'parts of the ascent. We caught glimpses of strangely
picturesque heights and wooded ravines, but we could
not keep the doors of our palanquin open on account of
the heat and glare. The bearers paused often to take
breath, and at length* they placed us on the ground in
front of the villa which was to be our home for the
present. The approach was by a covered way across a
garden looking fresh and carefully tended even now,
and the windows on the other side of the house opened

FEVER DREAMS. 143

on a yerandaJb that overhung a green valley, backed
by mountain-tops of fantastic forms. Into this valley
the nearer bank sloped softly down, with scattered
trees here and there, beyond the belt of flower-garden
whose rich scents filled the house. We could see vege-
tables growing in the lowest part of the hollow, great
yellow gourds and green lettuces; and there were
mangoes ripening on the trees, and yellow bananas
temptingly within our reach. There was freshness in
the air, in spite of the heat, and we were all well dis-
posed for the breakfast which Framjee soon spread for
us in the central apartment.

The house consisted of a single suite of rooms, five in
number. The central one was a sort of dining-hall,
and opening into it on one side was a sitting-room, with
a bedroom beyond, now prepared for Miss Clay and
me. We all expressed ourselves satisfied and pleased,
in spite of our fatigue, but we retired to rest after
breakfast, and made no sign again till we were sum-
moned to an early dinner at three. Colonel Clay was
in the verandah when we entered, talking to a gentle-
man, in whom, as he turned towards us, I was glad to
recognize an old friend. "Why, Clary," said Mr.
Collier (for it was he), "we meet again in a very plea-
sant place. I am grieved to hear you have been ill,
Are you not surprised to see me here ? "

144 almeria's castle.

" No," I replied, " I generally meet you when I'm
with Miss Clay." He laughed, patted my head good-
naturedly, and called me a sharp little thing ; and then
we sat down to dine. Already we felt the exhilarating
influence of the mountain air after the stifling atmo-
sphere of Bombay, and when we rose from table, we all
went together to explore the neighbourhood on foot.
From a field a little way from the house, we saw the
village clustered round a tank, so large that it had all
the beauty of a lake, reflecting the houses on its banks
and the mountain-tops beyond. In the woods scattered
on^ the hill-sides there were but few palms, so that the
foliage afiPorded a pleasant change to eyes accustomed
to the dark woods of Bombay. There were even many
specimens of one tree that had just burst into leaf of the
brightest and loveliest green, in spite of all the long
months of drought. We ended by visiting the villa
which I heard them say Mr. Collier had lately bought.
It was quite a cottage, with a garden before the door,
and one principal sitting-room ; but when we had
passed through this room, we reached a large verandah
overhanging a ravine, with sides of precipitous grey
rock dotted with shrubs, and a line of wood in its
hollow, marking the bed of a torrent that was now
almost dry. Mr. Collier pointed out a thin thread
here and there, insignificant enough now, but certain

FEVER DREAMS. 145

to become a glorious waterfall before another month
had passed. We lingered till dark enjoying this lovely
view, and then returned to our own abode. ** Let us
have tea in the verandah," Miss Clay said, as we passed
Framjee at the door; and we went through the dark
dining-hall to the verandah, which, as I have said,
overhung the valley. Miss Clay and I stopped with an
exclamation of wonder and delight as we caught. the
first glimpse of the scene below, which was absolutely il-
luminated with a blaze of fire-flies. Every tree and bush
all along the winding hollow was alive with the little
brilliant throbbing flames. I had seen a stray fire-fly
or two at Bombay, but any thing like this glorious dis-
play I had never imagined. It was a long time before
we could sit down quietly and drink the tea that
Framjee brought us. " Ah, Framjee," said Mr. Collier,
in English, "you are conquered to-night. Even
Parsees can't make light like that."

Framjee smiled and shook his head. I thought of
the " Feast of Lamps " I had once seen in Bombay,
when my father drove me through the bazaars; and
all the houses — Hindoo, Mussulman, and Parsee — were
brilliantly illuminated, so that the crowded faces within
doors, and the whirl of carriages and carts in the
streets, were visible as by day; and I contrasted the
glare and noise and stifling heat of that scene, with

146 almeria's castle.

the coolness^ and sweetness, and beauty of this one.
By the time the stars came out, and the crescent moon
had risen over one of the hills, Mr. Collier was repeat-
ing verses, to which Miss Clay listened with evident
pleasure, while her father slumbered in a shadowy
comer. I was sorry when a darkly-draped figure
drew softly near, and asked if missy would go to bed.
Miss Clay answered that she would take me herself,
and the ayah retired; but this broke up our little
party, and I was soon in bed, where Miss Clay left
me, saying she would very soon return. There was
a light in the room, and finding, after awhile, that I
could not go to sleep, I began to examine what was
around me. The room was at the extreme end of the
house, with a door opening from the sitting-room,
and another that opened on the broad verandah sur-
rounding the house ; the windows on either side were
only partially glazed, the rest being filled with jalousies.
I knew that opposite to the outer door were some steps
leading down into the garden, and now, as I lay alone
in* the strange place, having perhaps a little return of
fever from the unusual fatigue of the previous day and
night, I began to be troubled with all sorts of foolish
fancies. The breeze came sighing up a long valley
away to the right of the villa; it whispered myste-
riously among the leaves of a fan-palm, such as one

FEVER DREAMS. 147

sees in Chinese pictures, and whicli I had noticed
during the day, growing close to the house; and it
shook the tattered banana-leaves till they sounded like
rapid footsteps pattering close at hand. There were
strange cries too, some not new to me, for I remem-
bered the jackals at Salsette, but others such as I had
never heard before. One, which I afterwards knew to
be the voice of a species of owl, terrified me by its
resemblance to a human sound of distress. In the
course of the evening, I had heard Mr. Collier say that
a tiger had been seen in the ravine below his house,
and that there were many wild beasts among the hills ;
and now it seemed to me that the stair outside would
facilitate the approach of one of these monsters. The
place where Miss Clay was sitting was so far off that
I could scarcely hear the murmur of the conversation
going on there, so I felt as if I were beyond the reach
of help. Was the outer door open or shut ? Did I
see it flap backwards and forwards? or was it only
the flickering light, shaken by the draught, that made
it seem to move ? Was a savage beast creeping up the
steps, prowling round the house, sniffing at the door,
pushing to try if the fastening were undone ? Should
I presently see the fiery eyes, hear the stealthy foot-
step?
My heart beat thick and fast, and my terror was

1.2

148 almeria's castle.

becoming unmanageable, when the other door opened,
and Miss Clay entered softly from the sitting-room. I
was so startled that I cried aloud, and then came a
delightful sense of relief and safety.

"What now, my little Clary?" she said, as she came
to the bedside. " I hoped to find you asleep, and when
I saw the old Kamoosee preparing to come his rounds,
I thought I would come here, lest he should wiake you,
and you might be scared to find yourself in a strange
place. What has been the matter, little one, to make
you so flushed?"

"Nothing, nothing now you are come," I replied,
clinging fondly round her neck ; " I will go to sleep if
you will stay with me."

She soothed me, batbed my head with scented water,
and reminded me of the little hymn she had taught me
to repeat when I was wakeful, and which, in my late
agony of mind, had not occurred to me. Then I
watched her as the ayah imtwisted the coils of golden
ha^r, and while watching her I felt no fear, though the
old Kamoosee (or night-guard) was making his rounds
and shuffling along the verandah past our windows,
shaking the dreaded door as he passed, to ascertain
that it was securely fastened.

CHAPTER VIII.

RHANDALLA AND POOXAH.

J HE next few daya were among the happiest
I ever passed. We grew familiar with the
shapes of the hills around us, and observed
in every aspect that one which, fr.nn ita
supposed resemblance to the Duke of Wellington's pro-
file, went by the name of the Bute's noae. No doubt,
as seen from one spot, with purple shadows hiding some
of its inequalities, it waa Hke a huge and solemn face
looking up into the sky. Our nearest hill, rising with
soft slope opposite to the verandah where all our even-
ings were passed, had, however, the strongest attraction
for us, and we had been but few daya at Khandalla,
when it waa determined that we should ascend to ils
very topmost point some morning at early dawn, and
hang a flag on a pole that already stood there. We
fulfilled our project, though the task was a heavier one

150 ALMERIA*S CASTLE.

than we expected, and we had hardly time to get back
to shelter before the heat of the day was upon us ; but
the view amply repaid the effort.

During the middle of the day, we were obliged to
remain under cover, but we began our afternoon excur-
sions earlier than we could have ventured to do at
Bombay. One of our trips was to visit some famous
caves in a hill-side on the road to Poonah. We all
went thither in the carriage, but riding-horses were to
meet us there, and I was to drive home in solitary state
while the others rode. Mr. Collier condoled with me
as we drove along, asked if I did not wish I could have
the twins to bear me company, and laughed at the
eagerness with which I declared I did not want them
at all. He asked Miss Clay if she had lately heard of
her dear little cousins.

"Yes," she replied, "I heard last week from Mrs.
Farrer, indeed, she wrote to beg I would go to her.
They are all enjoying themselvies very much at Ma-
hableshwar, and she says the hills were never so gay, or
the rides so thronged."

" How you could resist such temptation, to say no-
thing of the menagerie, is to me wonderful," said Mr.
Collier, but Miss' Clay did not answer. We turned off
the high road at length, crossed a dusty plain with a
few scrubby bushes dotted over it, and stopped at the

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 151

foot of a hill. Here we left the carriage, and began
ascending a zigzag path, pleasantly shaded with trees
here and there, and after many a pause to take breath,
or to admire the continually increasing panorama be-
low, we stood on the platform in front of the caves of
Carlee. The first thing on which my eye rested was
a tall fluted pillar, surmounted with figures of animals ;
this stood out alone in front of the cave on the left,
while on the right was a small building, from behind
which, crawling like some great beetle, came a yogi, or
religious beggar, crying aloud for alms. The sight of
him and his unearthly cries induced me to seize Miss
Clay's hand and hurry her through the arched door-
way, and then we paused in wonder, there was so much
in the shape and arrangement of the place to remind
even me of a church. The rounded roof had ribs of
wood at intervals ; on either side the central aisle was a
row of pillars, with a narrow side -aisle beyond, between
them and the wall; and at the farther end was the
shrine. Closer inspection showed us the strange carved
figures of elephants and human beings surmounting
each pillar. The shrine was only a dome of white
stone, surmounted with the fragments of a woodan um-
brella. It was a dreary, sad place after all, and I
longed to leave it, but my companions were much in-
terested, and observed every part with care and atten-

152 almeria's castle.

tion. I should have liked to run out on the platform,
only I feared to meet the old crawling beggar.

" We have forgotten poor little Clary all this time,"
exclaimed Miss Clay, as, in a pause in the conversation,
I looked up at her appealingly. " You don't care much
for this dismal-looking place," she continued ; "but trust
me, dear, some day you will like to remember you have
been here. This is a world-famous place. Clary, and
a very ancient place. They have been telling me that
this cave was scooped out of the hill, yes, and those
wooden rafters put up there, nearly eighteen hundred
years ago. Look at it all well, Clary : you must not
forget you have been here, as long as you live."

Her words made an impression, and I did look about
me more attentively ; but it was a relief to leave the
heathenish place for the outside air, and the view of
hill^ valley, and plain which the platform commanded.
The beggar had retired to his hiding-place, and we
were undisturbed as we lingered to notice the many
pigeon-holes in the rock all about the caves, dwelling-
places, at some time long past, of devotees, or priests.

It was still quite clear daylight when we reached
the foot of the hill, where three horses were awaiting
my companions. They put me into the large open
barouche, and then mounted and cantered across the
plain, calling out that they would keep me in sight.

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 153

For my part, I was jolted over the uneven ground
till I reached the high road, and then, by way of
amusement, I began to fancy myself a grown-up lady
riding in my own carriage. First I was Miss Clay;
then I spread out my skirts and tossed my head, and
imagined I was Mrs. Farrer, and I bowed right and
left to imaginary passers-by ; but in the midst of one
of my most dignified salutes, I heard a laugh on the
other side of the carriage, and presently found that
Mr. Collier had been watching me, so I grew very red,
and subsided into the corner of the seat.

We passed the evening, as usual, in the verandah,
enjoying the sight of the fire-flies in the valley below,
contrasted with the white light of the moon, now ten
days older than when we had arrived at Khandalla.
Perhaps Miss Clay thought there was a danger of my
being troubled with some of my terrors that night,
after seeing the caves ; at all events, she kept me
beside her till she retired for the night herself; and
when I was in bed, she sat beside me and talked, not
of the * gods of the heathen ' and the dark places of
the earth, but of the Light that came into the world,
the Babe that was laid in a rude manger at Bethlehem ;
and I fell asleep while she was repeating one of my
favourite hymns j

'*I thiuk, when I bear that sweet story of old."

154 almeria's castle.

I was playing in the garden on the folowing morn-
ing when the riding-horses were brought to the gate,
and I drew near to see Colonel and Miss Clay and
Mr. Collier mount. Perhaps I looked rather discon-
solate when they were riding off, for Mr. Collier turned
back, and asked if I would like a ride, and in another
moment I was sitting before him on his horse, a little
nervous, but extremely happy. We turned out of the
grounds of the villa into one of the many pleasant
paths, cut along the hill-slopes by some former inha-
bitant of Khandalla, and as we looked down into the
valley on either side the road from Poonah, we saw a
herd of several hundred bullocks, each laden with a
sack of cotton, going down towards Bombay. Their
hoofs raised a cloud of dust from the dry soil, and
the drivers uttered imcouth cries that disturbed the
usual silence of morning among the hills. I returned
greatly delighted with the expedition, although a
saddle-peak does not afford the most luxurious of rest-
ing-places.

"I would promise to take you again," said Mr.
Collier as we dismounted, " only that I see signs fore-
telling a change, and I fear the monsoon will soon be
upon us. We shall not have many more early rides."

In truth, the sky, so clear and blue for many months,
was beginning to be overcast, and by mid-day black

KHANDALLA AKD POOiTAH. 155

clouds were collecting over the mountains, and the air
grew so dusky that in the rooms shaded by the deep
verandah, we could scarcely see to do any thing.
Colonel Clay, who was busied in writing some report
for the Government, assisted by Mr. Collier, and some-
times also by Miss Clay, was obliged to carry his table
into the verandah. There was a strange hush of ex-
pectation in the air. The lizards we had been amused
to watch daily basking in the sunshine, had crept away
out of sight, and nothing seemed moving out-of-doors
throughout the sultry afternoon. As evening came on,
and the house was lighted up, myriads of insects came
in, and kept up a perpetual tinkling, as they tapped
against the glass screens that protected the flame of
candles and lamps. We-went out to look about us.
A hollow sound was coming up the dry valley, the trees
began to shiver, and presently, with a loud crash of
thunder and a wild blaze of lightning, the storm burst
upon us. Grander than tongue can tell was the voice
of the thunder among the mountains, and glorious the
scene, as flash after flash showed us the points and
crags that surrounded our dwelling.

We rushed to the shelter of the verandah as the rain
began to fall, not in drops, but in sheets of water, like
the rush of a torrent. We could get but little sleep
that night, with the thunder roaring at intervals, and

156 almeria's castle.

the unaccustomed sound of the rain never ceasing at
all.

The next day and the next there was little change,
and we were, of necessity, prisoners tp the house ; even
Mr. Collier, who was now established under our roof,
instead of going to his own bungalow.

The altered scene had a great fascination at first for
Miss Clay, who would stand in the verandah and watch
the incessant down-pour, beneath which the hills became
green as emeralds in a few hours ; but she confessed,
after a time, to a sense of monotony, and a wish that the
noiee of the rain would cease even for a few minutes.

It did not cease, however, for a whole week, at the
end of which period we entered our palanquins and
were conveyed to the foot of the mountains, and thence,
in a carriage leaking at every corner, to Panwell, where
we found the bunder-boat awaiting us. Our week's
imprisonment had not been very grievous, I think, to
any of the party, except, perhaps occasionally to Colonel
Clay, who loved an active out-of-door life. Sometimes
in the evenings, Miss Clay and Mr. Collier sang without
accompaniment, save the ringing rain outside; some-
times they read aloud ; and once they tried their skill
at acrostics, and made new ones when they had repeated
all they could recollect. Among my old papers, written
in ink now faded, I found the other day some of these

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 157

compositions, copied out for me by Miss Clay. I will
give them here, placing Miss Clay's first.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

1.

1. A Desert stretched beneath a burning sun :

2. Fuel to feed the lamp, when day is done ;

3. The lands that own a Monarch's regal sway :

4. A city built beside a world- famed Bay :

5. The boon for which unchastened sorrow sighs :

6. The lover's haunt, the Poet's Paradise.

Thoughts but of gloom although my initials bring,
My finals tell of hope and joyful Spring.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC

2.

1. The early frost has made them crisp and bright :

2. The seer who saw, far off, the Gospel light :

3. A city on the fair Italian shore :

4. In hidden nook the miser's secret store :

5. That which, when past away, returns no more.

About the initials laughing simbeams play.
The finals follow, as night follows day.

158 almeria's castle.

double acrostic.

3.

1. All day the Pilgrims move in long-drawn line
To bend the knee before their Prophet's shrine.

2. Hark ! o'er the Desert-sands their voices float,
Chanting at eventide the same sweet note ;

3. Or ballad, crooning forth a tale of woe,

4. Like the Greek captive Queen's, who, long ago.
Watched the blue Bosphorus' waters ebb and flow.

5. The patient beast lies resting on the sand.

Stars gleam on high, and darkness shrouds the
land.

Softly my first upon their sleep shall break.
Bidding the faithful with the dawn awake.
And as the gracious murmurs bid them lise.
They'll deem my last is whisp'ring from the skies.

The following is one of Mr. Collier's, a first attempt,
as he declared :

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

1. Confusion dire and noisy din :

2. Notion or thought, the mind within :

3. A foe to rob the larder come :

4. The maid who first sang, " Home, sweet home :"

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 169

6. The long-billed bird that hears and sees
The falcon's rush, and trembling, flees.

The initials tell the means that rule
Our British youth in learning's school,
And make my finals* crabbed tongue
Familiar music to the young.

Even Colonel Clay was induced to try his skill at
this amusement, so novel to him, and after much
thought he handed his daughter the following double
acrostic : '

" What you are,
What you will ever be.

1. A Protector,

2. A Workman,

3. A Music- gallery,

4. A Poet."

The answers are not hard to find, so I will not give
them here, lest by doing so, I should seem to insult my
reader's powers of guessing.

It was very pleasant to feel myself once more in my
father's arms, and to sit beside my mother and tell of
all my adventures. There was even a charm in Mrs.

160 almeria's castle.

Armstrong's welcome, though it was soon followed by
sighs and groans over the dilapidated state of my ward-
robe, consequent on my scrambles up hill and down dell
at Khandalla. Cactus-plants had been unfriendly to
my best muslin frock, and shreds of my worked jacket
were bleaching on the thorn-bushes near Carlee. The
assurance that Miss Clay was braiding a suit of China-
silk for me partially allayed the storm, and then my
father forbade any further mention of the subject.

The monsoon had now set in, in real earnest, and it
was often diflScult for me to get across the road, so
heavily and incessantly fell the rain. The heat, too,
continued almost undiminished, and if the rain paused
for a moment in its fall, great clouds of steam rose from
the burning soil. Miss Clay's roses were fast fading in
the unhealthy, stifling atmosphere, and whenever I was
able to go to her in a pause of the deluge, I found her
languid, and unequal to exertion. In the afternoon the
horses were put in harness, and if there were a break in
the weather, the carriage was brought to the door, and
we set forth for a drive, usually to the shore at Breach
Candy, where the angry sea came frothing over the
black rocks ; but we always returned in a pelting shower,
with the carriage and all its windows closely shut. In
the evening, especially during the first fortnight of the
monsoon, the evenings were most disagreeable, for the

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 161'

lighting of lamp or candle seemed the signal for all
sorts of creatures to flock into the house, and any
employment was out of the question.

In the fourth or fifth week of the rains, my father was
dining with our friends, as he often did now, and Mr.
Collier was there also. I took my place at dessert at
the round table, between my father and Miss Clay ; and
amused myself by listening to the conversation.

" This would not be a good time to ask you how you
like India,*' my father observed to Miss Clay. She smiled,
and answered cheerfully, perhaps noticing that Colonel
Clay had turned towards her with a look of anxiety.

" I was writing to England to-day," she said, " and
I really could not help laughing when I read over my
letter, finding it a detail of petty miseries from be-
ginning to end. A pathetic chapter of my life it formed,
I can assure you; from rising in the morning unrefreshed
by slumber, and limp as wet blotting-paper, through
the languid hours passed in dark rooms in a bath of
hot vapour, with a frame too feeble for occupation, to
the very close ; when, to escape the persecutions of frogs,
and rats, and bats, and moths, and mosquitoes, and
myriads of winged creatures, one creeps into a bed that,
like every thing else, is damp and miserable. Nay,
this is not all ; for all night the rain falls ringing down,
the sea roars, the grasshoppers utter their metallic cry.

it

162 almeria's castle.

the great fit)g8 croak in the marshes, and the ramosee
coughs aloud as he goes his rounds !"

" You will find every thing very different at Poonah,
I assure you," said my father. "When do you go ?"

" The day after to-morrow," she replied. " I hear so
much in praise of Poonah that I am quite anxioiis to
see the place."

" Poonah ! " I repeated, in alarm. " Oh, Miss Clay,
are you going away ?"

Yes, my poor Clary," she said, patting my head,

I am going away, but I will take you with me if you
like to go. Win you leave papa and mamma for a little
while to go to Poonah with me ?"

I had so pleasant a recollection of our trip to Salsette,
that I looked eagerly at my father for permission to
accept this invitation. He nodded and smiled, and the
whole matter was settled. Two days later we were in
the bunder-boat, — Colonel and Miss Clay, Mr. Collier,
Mr. and Mrs. Dwight, Colonel Farrer and myself, —
closely shut into the cabin, with the rain pelting on the
roof, and the strong breeze bending the boat over
nearly on her broadside. We landed at Panwell, still
in the same driving rain, and entered the carriages that
awaited us on the quay. The afternoon was already
advanced, and we were to sleep at Khandalla, so we
pressed on as well as the state of the roads and the con-

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 163

dition of the horses would allow. Now and then, a
pause in the rain allowed us to see the great change the
monsoon had wrought in the appearance of the country.
The baked hollows had become ponds and lakes, the
hills were clad in radiant green, and the trees looked
fresh and full of leaf. We were thankful on other
accounts for ever so brief a cessation of the rain ; for
the leathern top of our rickety vehicle leaked in several
places, and we were obliged to spread cloaks on our
knees to catch the water. Darkness fell some time
before we stopped at the foot of the Ghaut, where a
busy throng was moving in the light of many torches.
Palanquins for the whole party, each with its torch-men
and double set of bearers, were drawn up in front of the
station-house, and, amidst much noise and confusion, I
found myself safely deposited in a palanquin with Miss
Clay, beginning the ascent of the mountain. Here the
rain kindly paused for awhile, and we could keep the
doors of our vehicle open and look out on the strange
scene. The torches flared high when the men poured
some resinous substance on them, and shone on the wild
dark figures which surrounded us. Now and then we
had glimpses of the wonderful eastern foliage, the great
leaves of tree and creeper wet and glistening as the
light fell on them ; sometimes the rays glanced on a
stone by the road-side streaked with red paint, and

M 2

164 almeria's castle.

saluted with some respect by the natives; or now a
momentary flash showed the gloomy depth of a precipice
falling abruptly to the dark valley below. Before we
reached the Travellers* Bungalow, the rain was falling
again, hissing on the torches and clattering on the roof
of the palanquin, so that we were glad to get into the
house. Dinner was soon ready, but even the charms of
prawn-curry failed to detain us long. Miss Clay took
me to the room we were to share, and I was soon asleep.

At four the next morning we were called, and dress-
ing hastily, we joined the rest of the party in a hurried
breakfast, and prepared to resume our journey. Colonel
Clay seemed uneasy.

" You look pale and tired, Anne," he said ; " I will
wait for you, if you like to stay here longer."

" No, thank you, papa," she said, smiling. " The
fact is, I never slept, or tried to sleep, on a gridiron
before last night. By all means let us go on."

So we went on the other forty miles of our journey,
and in the pauses of the showers saw much to amuse
us. People were at work in the rice-fields, both men
and women, their chief article of attire being a basket
of queer shape, sheltering them in some degree from
the rain as they stooped over the plants. In one place
where we changed horses, a snake-charmer was making
a cobra dance with reared crest to the music of a pipe.

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 165

The syces who ran by the horses often diverted us by

m

the strangeness of their dress: one, who seemed a
special dandy, and ^splashed along the wet roads with
bare brown legs, with a self-satisfied air, wore a drum-
mer's old coat of scarlet, while on his head was a sugar-
loaf cap, half of. red, half of bright blue cloth, covered
with yellow embroidery. Others had jackets made from
old chintz window-curtains, with flaring bunches of red
and yellow flowers, giving them a most grotesque ap-
pearance. Miss Clay called my attention to the beauty
of the scenery by her own exclamations of delight. The
hills were like living emeralds, the water-courses full,
and the woods in the valleys were indescribably lovely,
particularly one composed entirely of bamboos, whose
light and lovely foliage I have never seen surpassed.

The sun was hot as we crossed the bridge over the
river near Poonah, and saw the Brahmins on the steps
below the temple on the farther bank, drawing water
or washing their garments in the stream. As we drove
across the plain, Mr. Collier, who was in the carriage
with Colonel and Miss Clay and myself, asked me how
I felt at the prospect of entering the menagerie again ?
I looked inquiringly at Miss Clay, who laughed as she
said, " I don't think Clary knows that she is going
there." It was true that I had asked no questions, and
I was not quite agreeably surprised to find that we were

166 almeria's castle.

to be guests in Mrs. Farrer's house ; however, so long
as I remained beside Miss Clay, I was content. We
drove on till we reached the artillery lines, and the
carriage containing Colonel Farrer and the Dwights
preceded us, passing into a garden where balsams and
flowers of every colour were tangled in the richest pro-
fusion, and pausing under a porch quite curtained with
jessamine in full bloom. The twins were dancing fran-
tically on the verandah, and shouting a welcome to the
whole party, and Mrs. Farrer, in her gayest gown of
apple-green, held up the baby to kiss his father. The
twins pounced upon me as I stepped into the verandah,
and dragged me to the nursery, to see a parrot which
had been given to them, and which they probably liked
because it was as noisy as themselves. Miss Clay came
to my rescue ; and then followed an hour of laughing,
talking, and eating ; after which, I found myself lying
on a mat in a cool room, with a pillow under my head,
and soon fell into a delicious sleep. When I woke, it
was so dark, that I could only just distinguish the
figure of Miss Clay moving softly about the room. I
was soon at her side.

" Come, Clary," she said, " every one is gone out but
you and I. Let us explore the garden together, and
see what the house looks like from the outside." We
were soon enjoying the open air, fresh, cool, and de-

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 167

lightful after the oppresBive atmosphere of Bombay, so
that my companion's languor had given place to a lively
interest in the new scenes to which we had come. The
garden was a very wilderness of sweetness and beauty,
and even the tall trees that bounded it were gay with
blossoms of varied colours. The house, which had been
lent to the Farrers by a friend, covered a considerable
space, but was of only one story in height. The north
side looked into a square of out-buildings : on the other
three sides, the shallow verandah was enclosed in trel-
lis-work, to which clung plants of Indian honeysuckle
loaded with flowers of every shade between pale pink
and crimson — ^looking not unlike the bunches of coral
charms which travellers bring from Naples.

" It is a very pretty screen seen from without," ob-
served Miss Clay, '* but it makes the rooms particularly
dark. It has its use, though we find it in our way now,
Clary. Delightfully fresh as the air is at this season, I
am told that when the hot winds are blowing, people
are obliged to shut up their houses to keep out the heat.
That is why the windows are all glazed here, instead of
being merely filled with jalousies as they were at Bom-
bay. But there are no hot winds now, and I think we
shall like this place, don't you. Clary P "

We passed out of the garden-gate into a r9ad that
skirted the plain, and was bordered with trees. Here

168 almeria's castle.

we were joined by Mr. Collier, who took us past some
houses standing in gardens like our own, and past the
space where the artillery-horses were picketed in the
open air, to a kind of down, which Miss Clay said re-
minded her of England. We had hardly re-entered
the house, when Mrs. Farrer returned from her drive,
and, sending the children to their nursery, came into
the drawing-room, which occupied the centre of the
house, having windows at each end.

" "Well, it really is a comfort to find some one here,
Anne,'' she remarked, as she seated herself. " I can
tell you my evening^ have been most dismal, when I
have been at home. If I looked up from my book, I
was sure to see the black face of one of the servants
pressed against one window or the other, to see if I was
going to bed, that they might retire also. I was early
enough too, for I always went to my room as soon as I
heard the trumpet at the barracks ; and that sounds
at nine o'clock."

" I think I shall follow your example to-night," Miss
Clay said, "but after a good night's rest, I mean to
enjoy Poonah very much."

I believe Miss Clay kept her word. I know that the
next few weeks were a happy time to me. I remember
with pleasure to this day the fresh cool mornings when
we rode over the plains, the evening drives among the

KHAKDALLA. AND POONAH 169

vast fields of grain, with here and there d village or a
mango- grove to vary the scene. There were favourite
spots by the river-side, where we lingered again and
again ; and there was a ruin of a palace (built by
Scindiah when he besieged Poonah, I believe), to
which we went several times, that Miss Clay might
sketch it. In the second week of our stay. Colonel
Farrer, Colonel Clay, and Mr. Collier left us to return
to their public duties at Bombay. The evening before
their departure, we all went to the top of a hill above
the native town, where there are some famous temples.
I was much amused with all we saw on our way through
the city, which is of considerable size. The houses were
decorated with paintings, one of which represented
a tiger, some twenty times larger than the men and
horses that himted him ; and there were carved balco-
nies, and temples of fretted stone, and buildings of
all shapes and sizes. In front of one of the temples was
a group of men leading a white goat, and carrying long
strings of red and white roses. In another place, we
met a Brahminee bull, white as snow, with costly
drapery over his hump, stalking among the crowd of
natives, who made way for the sacred animal with the
utmost respect. Beyond the streets lay a large tank,
like a lake, with fine trees about it ; and rising from
its farther shore was the hill we were to ascend bv a

170 almeria's castlb.

wide flight of steps. We reached the top at last, and
through half-open doors caught glimpses of some of the
hideous Hindoo idols, said to .be here enriched with
jewels of price. The charm of the place for our party
seemed to lie in the view it commanded, and Miss Clay
made me notice the wide rich plains with villages dot-
ting them here and there, rivers winding among them,
and the fantastic hills that varied the line of the horizon.
It was night before we left the hill.

Our life was very quiet after the gentlemen were
gone, for Mrs. Farrer was not very well, and therefore
could not receive any company except the Dwights, who
were settled in a house very near us. One event
which occurred at this time made a strong impression
on my mind. Mrs. Farrer had brought from Bombay
a favourite little tailor, whose seat from day to day was
in the north verandah, where the twins and I often
watched him at his work. He was the most industrious
of men. Now busied on some little garment for the
children, now hemming some of Mrs. Farrer's endless
flounces (for all such work is done in India by men, not
by women), the little Portuguese worked on unweariedly
from mom till night. If, in wildness of spirits, one of
the twins would perhaps snatch his work from his hands,
he merely looked after her with a mild expression of
remonstrance, and applied himself to a fresh task.

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 171

One morning we had watched him while we waited
for our ponies for the early ride before breakfast. When
we returned, he was not in his usual place, but the
exigences of hunger called off the attention of the twins
from the fact of his absence, and it was not till later in
the day that they began to ask what had become of the
little man. Mrs. Farrer answered that he was not well,
and no more was said on the subject. The following
afternoon, as I stood at one of the north windows with
Miss Clay, discussing the question of our evening drive,
I saw a small funeral procession emerge from one of
the outhouses and file out of the court, led by a priest in
a black robe. I felt Miss Clay clutch my hand tightly
as she led me from the window and sat down, looking
grave and shocked.

" Oh ! what is it P " I asked. " It can't be, oh ! Miss
Clay, surely it can't be the poor little tailor ! It is so
soon, so very soon! I saw him working yesterday
morning. Surely it can't be that P"

But her grave sad face told me that I had guessed
the truth. The twins had, unfortunately, found it out
also, and came to look for their mother, screaming
partly with grief, partly with fear; and the evening
passed drearily. enough, though Miss Clay rallied her
spirits, and tried her utmost to amuse us with games
and pictures. A shade of gloom remained over the

172 almeria's castle.

house for sevefal days. The knowledge that cholera
had seized a yictim from among them, made the other
servants nervous and ill, and they perpetually came to
Mrs. Farrer for remedies for their pains, real or
imaginary. Like many other ladies in India, she
always had a huge bottle, labelled *^ cholera mixture,"
in her dressing-room, and this needed refilling several
times while the panic lasted. By degrees, the poor
little tailor ceased to be remembered, and a new one
sat in his place, hemming Mrs. Farrer's voluminous
flounces.

We had other adventures of a more cheerful cha-
racter. One day an elephant, the property of some
gentleman in the neighbourhood, was brought for the
twins to see. It came pounding along, guided by the
mahout who rode on its neck, and Miss Clay fetched
some bread to feed the monster, which took a loaf in a
curl of its trunk, and deposited the morsel in its enor-
mous mouth. The twins were' half- frightened, and
leapt and vociferated violently at every movement of
the animal. At other times a party of natives would
arrive with tom-toms and monkeys, and go through a
performance that we found very diverting. In the
evenings, we often drove to the place where a military
band played, for the amusement of a crowd of ladies and
gentlemen in carriages and on horseback. On these

KHANDALLA AND POONAH. 173

occasions the twins, gaily dressed and in wild spirits,
had something to say to every body who approached to
greet their mother and Miss Clay, while I remained in
the background, silent but not unobservant. The races
took place while we were at Poonah, and not only
Colonel Farrer and Colonel C&y, but also Mr. Collier,
came up from Bombay on the occasion. The scene was
gay and amusing, and I found myself extremely de-
lighted when my favourite horse proved to be the
winner. A few days later, we drove towards the bridge
by which we had approached Poonah on our first
arrival. The rains had been unusually heavy in the
hills, and we had heard that the river was so swollen as
to threaten the safety of the bridge. Something more
than ordinary seemed to be expected, for parties of
natives were going the same way as ourselves, and
when at length we reached the bank, we saw the turbid
stream rolling along full and strong, but so shrunk as
no longer to inspire fear, for the bridge was crowded
with people. The sight of the crowd reminded Mr.
Collier that this was the day of a great festival, when
the natives of this part of India threw images of Gun-
puttee, their elephant-headed idol, into the water. We
were not near enough to see them do this, but we were
observing the crowd with curiosity, when suddenly the
rain began pattering down, and in a moment hundreds

174 almeria's castle.

of umbrellas were unfurled, red and blue, yellow and
green, till the dark crowd seemed metamorphosed into
a gaudy flower-bed. But we could not stop to admire :
we were obliged to have the carriage closed, and to
hurry home as if we had been at Bombay.

CHAPTER IX

THE BUIDE.

sSjjHUS glided on tbe happj weeks ; quiet
mornings with Miss Clay, when we repaired
to our room for lessons afber breakfast, and
pleasant hours in the open sir. I had
learned to like the noisy, goodhumoured twins, and to
be less annoyed by Mrs. Farrer's habit of calling me
" little Qrantham : " nevertheless my heart yearned
sometimes for my father and mother, and I wondered
whether they missed me. These thoughts were in my
mind one memorable morning, as I stood near Miss
day, waiting to read to her till she should hare finished
her letters. That day seemed like all other days ; the

176 ALHERIA*S CASTLE.

air was just stirring the boughs and shaking out the
scent of the flowers, the darkened room was fresh and
cool, and the usual occupations lay on the table; and
yet that day was to bring me a wonderful joy.

" Clary, I have some strange news to tell you,'* said
Miss Clay, laying down her letter, and drawing me
close to her side ; '' some glad, bright news, dear, that
will make you very happy. Clary, you have a little
brother. Think of that. Clary ! Oh ! how happy you
are, little one! You have a brother of your very^

own.

Her face was very bright, though there were tears in
her eyes. I felt stunned and bewildered, and could not
answer at first. By and by, I said, " Tell me again,
please. I don't understand."

So she told me again, tenderly and kindly, that God
had given me a brother ; and as she spoke of the love
which he and I should bear each other, I knew she
was thinking of her own brother, whom in this world
she would never see more. Then she gave me a note
from my father, enclosing a little lock of downy hair,
that I might see, he said, that what he told me was
true ; and Miss Clay found a locket among her trinkets
and put the hair in it and tied it round my neck,
and I went about all day very proud and happy.

Soon after this, I was very glad to hear that Colonel

THE BRIDE. 177

Clay was coming to fetch us. I longed intensely to see
the new treasure in my home,, and Miss Clay was
impatient to be with her father, now that the cooler
weather was coming on. On a grey day, we set forth
on our journey homewards, and at Khandalla, where we
stopped for the afternoon and night, Mr. Collier met us.
We rested during the warmest part of the day, and in
the evening drove to the bungalow that had been our
home for awhile in the hot weather, and afterwards to
the one which belonged to Mr. Collier. Both looked
damp and dreary. Mildew was on the walls and furni-
ture, a fringe of tall grass along every seam in the
roof, while in the gardens coarse rank weeds were
crawling over the wet soil, or clinging about the trees.
The hills, however, had gained in beauty, from the
freshness of the turf that clothed them, and of the
woods that ran up their sides ; and down the dreary
valley through which I used to expect wild beasts to
come stealing towards the house, a sinuous stream that
looked like a silvery snake, was winding merrily along,
while little rills came dancing from the heights to
join it.

We were early on the road the next morning.
"You look as if you had slept well, Anne," said
Colonel Clay.

"Yes, papa,'* she answered; "thanks to some kind

N

178 almeria's castle.

friend, a good mattress was laid over the gridiron last
night;'' at which remark the Colonel looked highly

gratified.

We did not go down the mountain this time in
palanquins, but in an open carriage, the wheels of
which were checked by ropes held by a large party of
natives. The freshness of the dawn was delightful, and
every turn of the zigzag road brought fresh beauties
to view. I remember especially a little snow-white
temple beside a lake, which reflected its every stone ;
the whole embosomed in woods at the bottom of a deep
ravine. When we reached the plains, the air was not
so pleasant, but the two gentlemen beguiled the way
with tales of the places we passed. Indeed, as we came
down the mountain, Mr. Collier gave us a piteous
account of a poor lady, who was going up to Khan-
dalla, at night, alone in a palanquin, when suddenly
her bearers cried out that there was a tiger approach-
ing, placed her vehicle on the ground, and fled ; and
there she was found by some travellers who came up
several hours later. Whether she had really heard the
panting of the wild beast, and the scratch of his claws
on the roof of her hiding-place, or whether she had
only imagined such sounds in the interval, her terror
had been very genuine, and never to be forgotten.
There are wild sounds among the hills at night, almost

THE BRIDE. 179

alarming to those who are safely housed, and terrific
to one whose frail abode might by a touch be sent
toppling over a precipice, even if she escaped the jaws
of the tiger and the bear.

In the dreariest part of the road between Khandalla
and Panwell, we came up with Miss Clay's pianoforte,
carried with slings by men, and surroimded with a
relay of bearers, laughing and chattering loudly. We
had seen a good deal of furniture travelling in this
fashion on our way, both going and coming, and the
primitive mode of moving it amused Miss Clay, to
whom it was a novelty.

We landed at Mazagon, where I found my father
awaiting me. How eagerly I sprang into his arms,
and questioned him about my little brother I After a
few words with Miss Clay, he lifted me into his buggy,
and we drove rapidly homewards. In the verandah
stood Mrs. Armstrong with a bundle in her arms.
She smiled grimly as she stooped to show me this
new little wonder. My brother was smaller than I
expected, and redder; and, to say the truth, uglier;
however, I consoled myself with the idea that he would
certainly grow, and that his faceVould not be so bad
if he stopped making grimaces. His hands were un«
deniably pretty, only so tiny and delicate that I was
almost afraid to touch them. My mother's kiss and

N 2

Iti> AUXEBJli.'* '.'.l^r

amile ci w-Ict:nie were sw««ter rn.in ever. We bad
€xitila» tiilk^ tt^*retiier of ^ cxLUt I fadd done and aeen,
and of the ccarm» ajid ^Fwceonfias of ib^ babr. Tbe
next morr.fr. y, MLs Claj cazne to aee «9^ and, aiker
dulj admirmg the new comers wmt ncftr tbe covicb on
wLicb mT motner lar, and bent down to ktas bcr. Mj
mother^ vsuallT so qidet and reaerrcd, pot bcr aims
round mT dear friend's neck and kxaaed ber aereral
timesy tben aaid Teiy warmlj, *^Ck)d bless too, dear!
I was sure it wonid be so, and I bope yofa wiD be Teiy,
Terr bappy for many a long year/' I wondeied wbat
tbese words migbt mean, bat my coriosEly was not
gratified till a few days later, wben I was spending tbe
morning at oar neigbboozs' as osoal, and an old Jew
from Calcutta came into tbe Terandab, and spread
before ns a number of embroidered wbite dresses.
Miss day selected two or tbree for beradf, and tben,
taking a cbild's frock from tbe beap, pnt it into my
bands.

'^Tbis is for yon. Clary/' sbe said, "and I will tell
you by and by on wbat occasion yon are to wear it/'

So wben the old Jew bad packed np bis goods and
departed, sbe told me that ere long she was to be
married, and that I most be one of ber bridesmaids,
and wear the worked frock she bad given me. I was
too much surprised to speak for some tune, and I

180 almeria's castle.

smile of welcome were sweeter than ever. We had
endless talks together of all that I had done and seen,
and of the charms and sweetness of the baby. The
next morning, Miss Clay came to see us, and, after
duly admiring the new comer, went near the couch on
which my mother lay, and bent down tx) kiss her. My
mother, usually so quiet and reserved, put her arms
round my dear friend's neck and kissed her several
times, then said very warmly, "God bless you, dear!
I was sure it woidd be so, and I hope you will be very,
very happy for many a long year." I wondered what
these words might mean, but my curiosity was not
gratified till a few days later, when I was spending the
morning at our neighbours' as usual, and an old Jew
from Calcutta came into the verandah, and spread
before us a number of embroidered white dresses.
Miss Clay selected two or three for herself, and then,
taking a child's frock from the heap, put it into my
hands.

" This is for you. Clary," she said, " and I will tell
you by and by on what occasion you are to wear it."

So when the old Jew had packed up his goods and
departed, she told me that ere long she was to be
married, and that I must be one of her bridesmaids,
and wear the worked frock she had given me. I was
too much surprised to speak for some time, and I

THE BRIDE. 181

could not tell whether I was glad or sorry, so I stood
with my head on Miss Clay's shoulder. " Well,
Clary," she said, drawing me round, so that she could
see my face ; " won't you say you wish I may be
happy, as your dear mother did P Don't you want to
know any more about it P"

I always felt shy when my feelings were much
moved, and now they almost choked me, so that I
could not utter a word of the love I felt. There was
no need, for I was with one who could read my heart.
She kissed me and went on speaking : " We shall still
be friends, Clary, just the same. I shall be away
for a little while, and then come back to live here,
and my husband will be very kind to you. Can you
guess his name P"

"Oh! do I know him P" I cried, and then an idea
flashed upon me. It must be Mr. Collier, and there
was no one in all the little world of my acquaintance
I should have liked so well. My conjecture was right,
and my mind soon grew accustomed to the prospect of
this new change.

The days passed on. The old Chinese shoemaker
came with spectacles on nose, and huge umbrella imder
his arm, to measure me for a pair of white kid shoes.
My frock was made, and a dainty little white bonnet
had been sent from England among Miss Clay's own

182 aliitbria's castle.

millinery. At our neiglIbour8^ all was busy prepara-
tion, for, though Miss Clay wished her wedding to be
very quiet, yet when she saw that for it to be so
would vex and mortify her father, she sacrificed her
wishes to his, as it had ever been her custom to do.
The old Indian officer loved a little display, so there
was to be a great gathering of all the society, now
returned to spend the cool season at Bombay.

The evening before the wedding, Miss Clay came
across to see my mother. My father had not yet re-
turned from the fort, baby was asleep on Mrs. Arm-
strong's lap in the next room, and all was very quiet.
Miss Clay threw aside her hat and took a low seat
beside the couch, while I nestled on the floor at her
feet,

"The last evening!" said my mother, laying her
hand caressingly on the golden hair I thought so
beautiful. "The last evening that Anne Clay will
ever sit beside me in this quiet room, which she has
so often made happy. You have done much for me
and mine, dear. God bless you for it ! "

"Not half what you have done for me,'' was the
reply ; " and believe me, Anne Clay's friends will only
be dearer to Anne Collier."

" Among all the beautiful presents which Clary tells
me you have received, I have not had courage to offer

THE BRIDE. 183

my poor little gift," my mother said, smiling, " Will
you take it now P It has been a labour of love, and
that will give it value iii your eyes."

The gift was a handkerchief of her own delicate
embroidery ; and I noticed on the following day, that
the bride carried it in her hand, instead of the one that
had been sent from England for the occasion.

" Before I go. Clary," said Miss Clay, as she rose to
leave us, " I must give you this little box, which Mr.
Collier sends you with his love. It contains a pearl
locket with my hair in it, and a gold chain ; and you
must wear both to-morrow, to show that you forgive
.him for taking me away."

The ornament seemed to me so beautiful, that I was
speechless with admiration, and meantime Miss Clay
took a tender leave of my mother, and then came
towards me, stooped to kiss me, and was gone. When
I ran to the window, I saw her white dress disappearing
behind the mimosas and oleanders in the Colonel's
garden.

The next day, in Byculla Church, every corner of
which was filled with people, I stood near and saw the
marriage of my two best friends; and the first face
which Mrs. Collier's eye sought, after she had ex-
changed a word with her father, was mine. Oh I how
proud I was ! proud of the tall, queenly bride, whom

184 ALMERrA^S CASTLE.

every one was admiring in lier crown of flowers, and
her flowing yeil^ bat pronder still of tlie look, the smile
that singled me out of all that admiring crowd. The
twins, who were present, had been kept tolerably quiet
during the service, but became clamorous in the vestry,
on catching sight of the favours, and after a vain
attempt had been made to satisfy them by pinning two
on each of them, they were conducted to the carriage
and soothed with a promise of rich cake. I was brought
forward to sign the register, and scrawled my name with
a trembling hand ; then we all returned to the carriages
and drove to Colonel Clay's, where a breakfast was laid in
a room profusely adorned with flowers. By and by there
were speeches and cheers, and then some one touched
me, and I rose and followed the bride to her chamber,
where she changed her dress, and prepared for her
journey. When every one but ourselves had left the
room, she said, " Do you remember last Christmas at
Salsette, Clary P when you and I spent our Christmas
Day together as quietly as we could?"

" Oh yes," I answered, " and Mr. Collier came and sat
with us by the tank, and we heard the jackals."

" I am going there again. Clary," she said, " and I
shall think of my little friend when I listen to the
fountains. God bless you, Clary ! "

In a few minutes she was gone, and. the crowd of

THE BRIDE. 185

guests had begun to disperse ; and soon I was relating
to my mother all the events of that wonderful morning.
Of course I missed my kind friend in the three weeks
of our separation that ensued, but not as I should have
done formerly. No one interfered with my visits to
my mother now; and, though my kitten had grown
into a large, stupid, sleepy cat, yet I had a better
amusement in watching my little brother. Mrs. Arm-
strong was too much absorbed in the care of the baby
to be severe with me. One evening, however, when
my father came home, he found me alone in the
verandah.

" Poor little woman ! " he said, as' I started up to
meet him, dropping a lapful of marigold flowers.
" How is it I find you alone, and what are you doing to
amuse yourself P"

'' Mamma is asleep, and Mrs. Armstrong told me to
stay here till she woke, so I was playing. I was
making a wreath," I said, holding it up, "to hang
round my cat's neck. Don't you remember, papa, how
all the horses were dressed up with flowers one day,
aft>er we came from PoonahP But this stupid old
thing doesn't want to be smart one bit ! "

" Get your hat and come with me in the buggy, then,
and we will see how Mr. Stubbs is getting on."
• I clapped my hands for joy, flew up-stairs and equipped

186 almeria's castlk.

myself, whispering to Mrs. Armstrong to tell my mother
when she awoke, where we were going. On the road
we met many carriages, and there was a crowd round
the band-stand on the esplanade, listening to the music.
Quite a little town, composed of tents and light wattled
dwellings, had risen on the green outside of the fort,
since the cessation of the rains, and the whole scene
was cheerful and pretty, as we passed it on our way to
Colaba. When we came near the lighthouse, I was
full of glee to think of the pleasant surprise we should
give old Tom. I ran up the staircase, and saw a man
preparing to light the lantern. Hearing a sound, he
turned, and I saw he was a stranger.

" I came to see Tom," I said, almost crying with
disappointment ; " where is Tom Stubbs ?"

" Tom's been very ill, little lady," replied the stranger,
" a'most at death's door, they say."

" Tom ill ! " I exclaimed, " and I never knew it !
Poor dear Tom ! He was so good when I was ill, and
I never knew about him."

"It's not long ago," the strange sailor said, "and
he's better now, miss. He's' a-sitting down there on
the rocks," and he pointed to the rocks down below,
where I had formerly so often sat. I ran down to my
father, who was just preparing to follow me up to the
lantern, and told him the news I had heard. We

THE BRIDE. 187

went together to the place where the old sailor sat,
leaning against a stone^ thoughtfully smoking his pipe.

He was so altered, that, but for the peculiarity of his
features, I should scarcely have recognized him. He
knew me, however, instantly, and started up to receive
me with an exclamation of delight, as I put my hand
in his.

" Why, missy," he said, " you're welcome as flowers
in May. I was a-thinking of ye at the moment. That's
queer, ain't it ? but I often think of ye, only I haven't
been able to come over and see ye this long time."

" We are very sorry to find you have been ill, Mr.
Stubbs," said my father. " We should -have managed
to come and see you sooner, if we had known it. Why
did you not send to tell us P"

"Why should I trouble yer honour? Thankee
kindly, all the same. It's nearly been all up with old
Tom, missy, and they're going to send me home to
England, but I'd never have gone without another sight
of the little face. And how's madam and the baby?
You see, missy, I've took care to hear about ye. They
told me about the grand wedding the other day. Ah !
she was one of the right sort, wasn't she P "

We all sat down on the stones and talked over the
events that had occurred since we parted, and then my
father went to Captain Scott, to get leave for Tom to

188 ALMERIA^S CASTLE.

come to us for a few days before starting for England,
so we bade each other good night with the hope of soon
meeting again. My mother was very much concerned
to hear of the change in old Tom, and was as glad as
myself when the old man appeared the following week,
bundle in hand, to pass a few days at Malabar Hill. A
room in one of the outbuildings had been made ready
for him, with the few articles of furniture that are re-
quired in a tropical climate, and he seemed very happy
to find himself with us again. Most part of the day he
would sit in the verandah, carving with a penknife the
model of a ship which was promised to me as a parting
present, but he talked less over his work than he would
have done formerly, and his laugh was far less frequent.
He was unchanged, however, in his wish to be of use,
and many a time Mrs. Armstrong would give him the
baby to hold while she was busy with other duties. I
could not help laughing the first time I saw Tom acting
as nurse, and he was not at all offended.

" It do seem queer, don't it, missy P " he observed ;
" and I can't say I know very well what to do, for he
an't come to the age when they likes to be chirruped
to ; but it seems to me, if you goes jiggety jog, jiggety
j6g, the little creatures are quite satisfied. It is queer,
too, missy ; for how should you or I like to be shook
about like this P But this blessed little bein' is actilly

THE BRIDE. 189

a-crowing and laughing at it. No, don't ye go and
holler, my pretty man," continued Tom, in great trepi-
dation, as the child made a threatening demonstration ;
" you'll trouble the mistress, if you go sounding your
pipes. I'm almost afeard, missy, he's beginning to
notice, and then in coorse he won't like my ugly old
phiz."

However, the old sailor generally managed to keep
the baby quiet, and grew very fond of the little crea-
ture during his stay.

" I ought to know how to mind a baby, ma'am," he
said one day to my mother, who had been laid on a sofa
in the verandah. " Once upon a time I had charge of
one for a fortnight."

"How was that, Mr. StubbsP" my mother asked.

"Well, this was how it was, ma'am. There was a
poor yoimg woman, a seaman's wife, died at New York
when her husband wasn't there, and left a small baby.
Her husband was away at sea, and all their relations
were at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, where they'd both
come from. There was a deal of talk about what was
to be done with the baby, and I heard about it. Now
it so happened that I and a boy was just going to take
a little schooner up to Halifax. ' Give me the baby,'
says I to the poor dead woman's landlady. ' I knows the
family in Halifax, and I'll take the child.' Every one

190 almebia's castle.

cried out ' nonsenfle ' on me, but I wouldn't be daunted,
and so they gave me the little one. Well, ma'am, before
I Bet out, I made a canvas bag, and hung it in the
middle of the cabin, and I took a goat aboard ; and as
soon as I took the baby to the vess^, I popped it into
the bag, gave it some milk out of a bottle ; then up
anchor and made all sail. We'd a rough passage that
time, and no nurse would have dandled the baby as
them stormy waves did. When I got a chance, I
milked the goat and fed the baby out of the bottle, and
the poor little thing crowed when it saw me come into
the cabin. We was a fortnight on the way up, and I
never had a happier day than when I put that child
into its grandmother's arms, as fat and well as you
could wish to see. I was little better than a boy myself
at the time, but I never see a baby .without thinking of
that one."

" Nobody but a sailor would have managed so well or
so kindly," my mother said, smiling.

"Thankee, ma'am," said Tom, evidently gratified.
He seldom " spun yams " now ; but one day, when my
lazy cat had roused herself, and was in the act of spring-
ing on a little brown bird with a feathery crest, he
startled me by jumping up and seizing puss by the
neck, while the bird flew away unscathed.

'' It's all nateral," he remarked, as he returned to his

THE BRIDE. 191

seat, after giving the cat an admonitory shake ; '' It's
all nateral, and one oughtn't to think harm of the
eretur ; but eats are cruel beasts, and I can't abide to
see them little birds harmed. Did you ever hear,
missy, how they came to have their little crests ?"

" No, Tom," I replied : " what are they P Tell me
all about them."

''They're called hoopoes, missy, and a shipmate of
mine that was given to book-laming, told me that hun-
dreds of years ago, hoopoes had heads as smooth as
most other birds ; but one day the great King Solomon
was sitting on his golden throne in the land of Judah,
and the sun shone down on his head ; and, as he was
judging the people, he was not willing to go into his
palace. Presently a flock of vultures came sweeping
across the sky. You know them hideous bald-headed
birds, missy, on the wall by the Parsee towers ? Well,
the vultures had feathers on their heads in those days,
but I suppose they had an evil natur, for when King
Solomon asked them just to stop over his head a little
while to keep off the heat, they said No, they couldn't
wait. So King Solomon said they should have nothing
ever after to cover their own heads from the heat of the
sun. That's why vultures is bald, missy. Next came
a flock of-hoopoes. ' Will you stop and shade me from
the sun P ' says the King. 'That we will,' said the

192 almerta's castle.

hoopoes ; and there they stopped as long as King Solo-
mon wanted 'em. Then King Solomon called the king
of the hoopoes, and asked what reward he would like to
have for the service the birds had done. Says the king
of the hoopoes, * I'd like for me and all my people to
have crowns of gold on our heads.' ' It shall be so/
says King Solomon ; and from that day the hoopoes
had golden crowns. But after a bit, when King Solo-
mon was giving audience, the king of the hoopoes came
hopping in, and asked to say a word. ' Speak,' says
King Solomon. 'I did what you asked. What ails
you now ? ' ' Oh ! ' says the bird, * pray take back your
gift, great king ! The other birds are jealous, and they
peck us ; and men hunt us and kill us, that they may
take our crowns of gold, and we are in such sad plight
that there are but few of us left. Pray take back what
you gave us, O King ! ' So King Solomon smiled and
said, * I thought it would be so ' (for he was very wise,
you know, missy) ; * I will take away your golden
crowns that have brought ye into trouble ; but I'll give
you crowns of feathers, to make you different from other
birds, so that when men shall look at you they may say,
"Those are the birds that were kind and willing to
help.'" It's all a made-up story, in coorse, missy, but
it gives me a sort o'liking for them little birds, and I'd
go a long way to save one of 'em."

THE BRIDE. 193

Before Tom left us, Mr. and Mrs. Collier returned to
the opposite house, and the old man was able to offer

■

his* good wishes in person. He was summoned rather
suddenly to embark for England, but Mrs. Collier found
time to supply him with many little comforts for his
voyage. I cried bitterly when the moment of parting;
came, and the old man was scarcely less affected.

" God bless you, missy,'' he said, in a voice rendered
still more husky by grief; "don't cry, there's a dear.
Who knows but we may meet again, even in old Eng-
land ? Up aloft, missy, I himibly hope there may be
a comer for old Tom, and I'll watch for your coming
up there, deary, if I never see you again down below."

So saying, he entered the buggy with his bundle, my
father drove him to the landing-place, and my old
friend was gone. Mrs. Collier did her best to console
me, but her time was, of necessity, just now much occu*
pied in receiving and paying visits, and attending
parties given in her honour. One evening, however,
when I was strolling in the garden with my father, she
and Mr. Collier joined us, and we all walked together
up and down the broad path.

" We have just been arranging a pic-nic for to-
morrow, Mr. Grantham," said Mr^ Collier,. "and we
want you to join us and bring Clarissa. We are going
to Kennery Island in the Commodore's yacht, and are

o

194 almebia's castle.

to dine on the top of the hill, and come back in a
steamer. Pray come.'*

My father consented, after some persuasion. I heard
him object at first on the score of what he called Indian
punctilio, and I wondered what he could mean; but
Mrs. Collier replied warmly, " I hope you will come as
my friend, and the friend of my husband and father ;"
and then he replied, ''I cannot say No to such an
honour."

CHAPTER X.

i HE following afternoon we went off in a
boat to the yacht, on the deck of which
a large party was already assembled, in-
cluding Mrs-Farrer, who exclaimed, " Well !
there you are, Anne, and I declare you have brought
little Grantham." I looked roimd anxiously, thinking
the twins might be there, but, to my joy, I heard Mrs.
Forrer add, " I left my twins at home. I had enough
of water- excursions with them on the Tannah river."

We sailed merrily along to our destination, and
although the party had evidently been made for Mrs.
Collier, and every one present treated her almost like a

196 almeria's castle.

queen, yet she never forgot me, but kept me near her
all the day. We landed in a cove, and mounted a flight
of rude steps cut in the rock, and bordered by walls of
large stones piled one on the other. Above were walls
of the same construction, tier above tier, pierced vsdth
holes for cannon, and at the top of the stair was a flat
space containing a few scattered trees. The charm of
the place was in the views it commanded, and in the
freshness of the air on the summit of the hill. While
the members of the party fell into scattered groups to
explore the island, the servants, under the orders of
Pardee John, spread a feast under the largest tree ; and
hither by and by the whole company flocked. The old
pirate, Angria, whose stronghold this island once was,
would indeed have been incredulous, could he have fore-
seen such a scene as was now being enacted within his
innermost fortifications. There were many jokes about
the popping of champagne-corks being a substitute for
the guns that had disappeared from the ruinous em-
brasures around us; but, while enjoyment was at its
height, and feasting had but lately begun, the red sun
dropped into the western sea, and the brief twilight
rapidly deepened into night. It was then discovered
that no one, not even Farsee John, had thought of
providing against such an emergency, and we knew it
must bo an hour yet before the moon 'rose. There was

BOMBAY. 197

a cry from the mortified John, and then his white gar-
ments vanished down the rocky stair, whence in a few
minutes he reappeared, bearing two ship's lanterns,
which he had obtained from the Commodore's yacht.
These only made darkness visible; nor were matters
much improved when Mr. Collier took the candles out,
and stuck them each in the neck of a champagne bottle ;
but they were better than nothing ; and laughter and
conversation flowed on unchecked. By and by, glees
and choruses were sung, sounding very sweetly in the
still gloom. I crept very close to my father, and drew
his arm round me, as I looked first on the group
round the dim lights, their smiling faces just distin-
guishable, and John and his assistants silently re-
moving the remnants of the feast; and then to the
heavy ring of shadow that enclosed the whole group.
I had a vague idea of horrible deeds once done in that
pirate-haunt, and I longed to leave it to solitude and
night. There was almost a shout of greeting from the
assembled party when the moon at length showed her
gracious face ; and we prepared to return home. My
father took me in his arms and carried me down the
stair, and the rest stumbled down with the aid of
the lanterns, to the little dark cove where the boats
awaited us. We were soon steaming along towards
Bombay, under a moon whose brightness rivalled the

198 almeria's castle.

daylight, and turned our track into a path of pearls and
diamonds. I had nestled down on the deck close to
Mrs. Collier, with whom my father was conversing,
and, tired with the day's amusement, had nearly fallen
asleep, when ray attention was roused by the words I
overheard.

"Does she know about the boy P" said Mrs. Collier.

" What, Almeria P No," replied my father.

"Don't think me impertinent," pursued Mrs. Collier,
" but is it quite impossible that you should tell her of
him yourself P "

" Quite," he answered with emphasis, and then both
were silent for a time. By and by Mrs. Collier said,
" I am afraid you are anxious, more anxious than usual.
Do you think there is cause for it P "

" Only too much, I fear," he said very sadly. " Beale
tells me we must not risk another hot season here, and
I must send her home. He thought she would have
picked up strength as soon as the cool weather came on,
but you must see it is quite otherwise. She frets about
it, on account of the expense, which is of course a
serious consideration, but not to be thought of for a
moment in comparison with her health, perhaps her
life. It would be all over with me, if . . . but I can't
think of it. What is your opinion P Don't you think
English air would restore herP"

BOMBAY. 199

"I hope fio — I think so," Mrs. Collier said kindly.
" It would be a hard parting for you, but I think you
would be glad afterwards."

" The old woman would go with her," my father con-
tinued. " She is devoted to her and the children, and
she would never leave them so long as they needed her
help. I have just obtained a step in the office, and it
would be absolute ruin to me and them to go away."

" You must let us be all we can to you when they are
gone," Mrs. Collier said. " I shall need comfort too,
fqr the loss to me will be very great," and I felt her
hand seek mine and grasp it, as she spoke.

4

" Ah ! you have been a good friend to her, and she
has had few friends in her life," my father said. " You
have known what she is, her sweetness, her love, her
patience." . . . He paused, and looked out over the sea.

" I have never seen any one so gentle, so unselfish, so
uncomplaining, so tender," Mrs. Collier said. " I am
thankful to have known her, and I shall love her all
my life."

" Thank you ; I like to hear you say so," he rejoined ;
and then some one drew near and interrupted the con-
versation. I was no longer sleepy, but I remained quite
still, thinking over all I had just heard. Were they
talking of iny mother ? were they fearful of her life ?
Were we going to England ? Should we have to part

200 almeria's castle.

with my father and Mrs. Collier? These thoughts
filled my head and heart, and damped the pleasure of
that evening. Several days afterwards, Mrs. Collier
noticed that I had become grave, and soon drew from
me the cause.

" Poor little Clary ! " she said, kissing me ; " to say
the truth, I think we forgot you were within hearing.
It is true that we are anxious about your dear mother,
but we are now only in December, and she would not
be required to leave Bombay till March. Let us not
meet sorrow half-way, but wait to see what is God's
will, and meantime be as cheerful as we can."

" There was something else I heard you say," I ob-
served, after a pause ; and I repeated the remarks which
she and my father had exchanged about Almeria and
the boy. "Do you know the boy?" I asked; ''and
does papa know any thing new about him and the
fairy?"

She looked puzzled and then replied, " You must not
ask me about that, Clary : and do not say any thing on
the subject to your father or mother. We will not talk
of it any more,"

I believe the subject returned to my thoughts many
times in the next few days, though it gradually yielded
to curious speculations as to our journey to England
and our possible adventures in that country. A few

BOMBAY. 201

weets later, a fresh cause of anxiety fell on those
I loved. Mr. Collier was attacked with one of the
fearful maladies of the country, and for several days
very little hope was entertained of his recovery. My
father sat up with him almost every night for a week,
to induce Mrs. Collier to take some rest, for she had
entire confidence in his skill and tenderness as a nurse.
By day she never left her husband's side, and I could
not even see her. I passed the mornings with my
mother, and late in the day strolled in the garden alone
or with Mrs. Armstrong and my little brother, watching
for my father's return from his office. One evening,
after I had passed a happy hour with him and my
mother, he went across the road to inquire for the
invalid, who had by that time so far improved as to
give hope that he might rally. Presently we heard my
father's step returning, and I went to the window to
ask what news he had brought.

" Better," he answered, " much better. Mrs. Collier
wants to see you, Clary ; you must come directly."

I soon joined him, and we walked through the starlit
gardens in silence. My father took me into the
drawing-room and bade me wait while he went up-
stairs. I was dazzled with the blaze of the lamps, and
awed by the thought of the trouble in the house, so I
sat very still, and presently I heard a soft rustle outside,

202 almekia's castle.

and my dear friend entered^ sat down, and took me on
her knee. The shadow of the terrible anxiety she had
been enduring was still on her white face, but her
caress was full of tenderness.

" My little Qary, my little friend ! " she said ; " I
wanted to see your wee face again. I know you have
thought of me in my trouble, though I could not see
you before."

"I was so sorry," I stammered, "so very sorry —
but he is better, isn't he? He will get quite well
now?"

" I hope so, I trust so, dear ; but oh ! Clary, I have
been very unhappy," and for awhile she hid her face on
my shoulder, and I felt that she was sobbing. She
soon recovered herself, however, and looked up, smiling
through her tears. "You see, dear," she added, "I
have been so unhappy, that I hardly know how to be
glad yet, but I am glad, nevertheless. I have some-
thing to say that will please you. Clary, and I sent for
you that I might tell it to you with my own mouth.
The doctors have decided that my husband must leave
India for awhile, and I think we shall probably go to
Egypt next month for a few weeks. I have been
talking the matter over with your father, my brother
Everard's friend, who has nursed my husband as ten-
derly as Everard himself would have done, Clary. We

BOMBAY. 203

ttink that we may be able to go in the same steamer
with you and your mother, so we shall not have to part
so soon as we expected, dear. Are you glad ?"

" Very, very glad,'* I answered eagerly.

She kissed me, and then talked of our voyage and
o^ my mother getting better in England; and went
on to speak of her late trial as if she were think-
ing aloud. I understood from her almost unconscious
words, something of the secret of her patience, some-
thing of the child-like faith that had sustained her,
and I remembered it when my own sorrow came.

The days rolled on, and Mr. Collier continued to
improve in health, though he was still very weak, and
his hands were thin and transparent. The day of our
departure drew very near, and Colonel Clay looked
grave and sad at the prospect of parting with his
daughter, though her absence was to be brief. One
afternoon Mrs. Collier sent for me to go with her to see
our cabins, and we picked up my father at his office,
then drove to the end of the Apollo Bunder, or quay,
where Colonel Clay had promised to join us. The
breeze was coming in, and there was plenty to amuse
us while we waited; two or three men-of-war with
rigging tight and trim, crowds of merchant-ships, and
boats without number.

"What is that boat waiting at the steps?" asked

204 ALMERIA^S CASTLE.

Mrs. Collier. "Surely it must be for some great
personage, it is so gay in its appearance."

My father asked a bystander, who replied that the
Guicowar of Baroda, then on a visit at Bombay, was
going on board one of the ships of war ; and while the
man spoke, a motley crowd approached at full speed.
First came a party of running footmen, some with
shields embossed with gold or silver, some with silvered
spears, or jewelled daggers, or noisy tom-toms, or sticks
covered with shining metallic rings that tinkled as they
moved ; but almost all with ragged garments, and toes
peeping through their slippers. They were followed by
an open carriage containing the Guicowar, a poor-
looking little man, and his principal minister, large
and stout, with a huge emerald, like a piece of green
glass, stuck through a slit in his ear. These two dis-
mounted and approached us, followed by a party from a
second carriage, consisting of the three daughters of
the Guicowar, little children of from two to six years,
carried on the hips of gaily-clad bearers. These
children were dressed in crimson silk, with skull-caps of
kincob, or cloth of gold, and their arms were adorned
with a profusion of bracelets. They were soon round
us, their pretty little brown faces full of glee, holding
out their hands for us to shake, and chattering in their
native tongue. Mrs. Collier said a few words in praise

BOMBAY. 205

of the little creatures, and my father translated them to
the Gtiicowar, who having no son, seemed to have more
fondness for his daughters than the natives of India are
accustomed to show. Presently, the whole procession
moved towards the steps, tom-toms beating, rings
jangling, and every one talking at the top of his voice.
They filled two boats as they sailed away in their
barbaric finery.

" Now you have seen a specimen of the native powers
of India," observed my father.

" An unfavourable one, surely," replied Mrs. Collier.
" I am afraid I found the whole party highly suggestive
of May-day at home."

" Yes, it is a very unfavourable specimen," my father
said. " The young man has been purposely brought up
in ignorance and idleness to suit the purposes of his
relations, and he is childish and silly. The gentleman
with the emerald in his ear manages every thing : he
looks astute enough for any purpose."

While the ships were saluting the Quicowar, Colonel
Clay joined us, and we went on board the steamer and
saw our cabins. On our way homewards, my father
suddenly remembered an engagement, and begged to
be set down near a bungalow we were passing.

"Perhaps you woidd like to come yourself," he
added, addressing Mrs. Collier. " The daughter of the

206 almebia's castle.

man who contracts to supply our firm with casks, is to
be betrothed this evening, and I promised to be present.
The parents would be much flattered if you and
Colonel Clay would come also, and I don't think you
have ever seen a Parsee wedding."

We all left the carriage, accordingly, and soon found
ourselves in a courtyard, which was lined with rows of
Parsee men in their state-robes of full white muslin.
Farther on, within a building lighted with many lamps
and suffocatingly hot, the ceremony of betrothal was
going on in the midst of a crowd of women in brightly
coloured sarees, decorated with jewels, and all with
nose-rings of pearls. In the centre of the room on
two chairs sat the bride and bridegroom, aged re-
spectively about six and eight years. The bride's arms
were quite hidden with bangles, and her dress was
a blaze of crimson satin and kincob. Her dark eyes
moved wearily from place to place, and her pretty
little hands twitched impatiently, as if she longed to go
and play. As to the boy, his chin had sunk on his
chest, and he was in a deep sleep, quite unconscious of
the two priests, who, clothed in white, were throwing
rice over the couple and reciting in monotonous tones
either prayers or exhortations. The bride's mother
looked proud and pleased. She had a soft pleasant
face^ and she wore a drapery of white damask richly

BOMBAY. 207

fringed with gold, while her armlets were nearly as
numerous as her daughter's. We had bunches of
flowers handed to us and sweetmeats wrapt in gilded
leaves; and before we departed, we were required to
drink the health of the young couple.

As we drove homewards, there was some talk of the
entertainments given for the Guicowar, and my father
mentioned a ball that was to take place the next
evening at the botanical gardens, and said he had heard
the Guicowar was to be there, not that such a circum-
stance would have any interest for Mrs. Collier.

" Let us go, Anne, nevertheless," said Colonel Clay;
" not for the sake of that miserable native, but just to
show you a very pretty sight. You cannot mind
leaving Collier for an hour or two now he is so much
better, and I am sure you would be amused. You will
conie too, Grantham, won't you P and bring your little
girl to see the sight."

My father declined for himself^ but it was finally
settled that I should go for an hour with Mrs. Collier
and Colonel Clay. I shall never forget what I saw.
The gardens lie in a hollow where no breeze stirs the
strangely beautiful tropical foliage. I had often been
there in evening drives; and Mrs. Collier, struck by
the stillness and beauty of the place, always called it
Aladdin's garden, and would sometimes linger till the

208 almebia's castle.

moonliglit lay on the great leaves of the fan-palm.
But on the present occasion the whole scene was like
fairy-land. Every path was bordered, every arch
outlined with myriads of lamps. In an open saloon
garlanded with flowers, pyramids of lamps rose in each
comer, clusters of lamps hung from the ceiling. The
figures that moved in this scene of enchantment seemed,
to my young eyes, quite worthy of it ; the ladies with
their light floating dresses, the gentlemen mostly in
gay uniforms. The musicians, hidden in a bower of
leaves and blossoms, gave out sounds that filled me
with delight. By and by, as we were preparing to go
home, a number of fireworks were sent up among the
taller trees, bringing into strong relief the varied
beauty of leaf and flower that surrounded us. The
large round moon was shining over the sea before we
reached home, and my dreams that night were Uke a
fairy-tale.

A few days later, I saw the same place again under
the common light of day, with not a soul besides our
own party to be found there, except a potter, who plied
his wheel and moulded a lump of clay into rude flower-
pots, as he sat under a pomegranate-tree. But it was
Aladdin's garden still, with buds and bells of magical
beauty, and fruits bright as jewels hanging on the
trees; to say nothing of the palm called the "Tra-

BOMBAY. 209

veller's joy/* which, when a slight incision was made
below its great leaves, sent forth a gush of pure cool
water that would have been priceless in the desert
whence the tree had been originally brought.

Fortunately for us, the merchants who were my
father's employers, found it necessary to send a con*-
fidential agent to Aden at this time, and they selected
my father for the duty. The local government, too,
required information on some question connected with
the fortifications in progress at the same place, and
Colonel Clay was ordered to repair thither, so we
mustered a large party when the day of departure
came. I remember that day well : the last drive
through the palm-bordered roads, and the busy bazaars,
with a sickly smell of musk and sandal- wood pervading
the air, and then out on the open esplanade and past
the fort, to the Apollo Bunder. I remember the con-
fusion on deck when we reached the steamer, the tears,
the anguish, as husbands and wives, fathers and chil-
dren, bade each other farewell. I remember, as we
steamed away, my last sight of Bombay, and the long
low land of Colaba, with houses peeping among the
trees, and the lighthouse gleaming white in the sun-
shine.

Our voyage across the Indian Ocean was very de-
lightful, or would have been so, but for the querulous

p

210 almeria's castle.

invalids and spoiled children who were among the
passengers. The evenings were especially lovely, and
we lingered late on deck to enjoy the coolness, and to
watch the wonderful white light that gleamed over the
sea, or flashed like liquid fire from the paddle-wheels.
My father showed me the Southern Cross on one of
those evenings, as he walked the deck with me in his
arms, in the same loving manner to which I had been
ever accustomed. I was sorry when I thought that I
was to part with him so soon.

" To-morrow evening we shall be at Aden, Clary,"
he said, after we had both been silent for some time ;
" to-morrow night I hope we shall sleep on shore ; and
the next day. Clary, we must bid each other good-bye.
What will you be like, I wonder, when I see you
again ? Not a little ' weeny white rabbit ' that I can
carry in my arms ; but, perhaps, a tall, dignified young
lady, who will say, ' Who is that old gentleman P Pray
introduce him to me.' "

"Nonsense, papa!" I cried, "I shall always know
you, if you have your face all puckered up with
wrinkles, and your hair all white and thin."

" Well, I hope we may meet before so great a change
takes place, Clary," he said, smiling.

"I hope so, papa," I said. "Do come to England
and see us very soon, or let us come back to you."

BOMBAY. 211

" God knows how it will be, Clary ; I cannot tell/'
he answered, very gravely, and then we were both
silent for a long time. When he spoke again, it was
to bid me obey my mother in all things, and do my
utmost for her comfort always. With my cheek on
his, I made a promise which, thank God, I believe I
had grace to keep.

p 2

ADEN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO,

,g®j HE next evening we reached Aden, when
<l!lw the nigged peaks were but dimly visible
against the sky. All our party landed, by
invitation, and found rooms ready for them
in the Resident's house, near the landing-place. The
next morning I woke on a couch in Mrs. Armstrong's
room, and could not at first imagine where I was, but I
soon rose and went to the window, to ascertain whence
came the sound of singing which reached my ear. I
exclaimed with delight as I saw the hills, bare and
rugged as they might really be, beautified and made to
glow like amethysts by the glorious moming-light.

ADEN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO. 213

The sea sparkled gaily, and danced round the rocks on
the shore, and the boats and ships beyond. The voices
I had heard were those of the dark fishermen who were
laying out their nets under the windows, swimming
from point to point, and sometimes diving and remain-
ing a long time under water, then reappearing on the
surface, shaking their heads, and resuming their wild
and not unmusical chant. I was so much amused in
watching them, that Mrs. Armstrong called me sharply
twice before I heeded her and began to dress myself.
After breakfast, leaving my father and mother together,
I went with Colonel Clay and Mrs. Collier to call on
some friends of theirs who were a mile or two inland, at
a place called the Camp, where are situated the houses
of the officials and other inhabitants, in the crater of an
extinct volcano. The whole country is made up of
cinders, that crackle under the foot like the refuse of a
blacksmith's forge. Our road was therefore sufficiently
dreary. Some strange-looking animals, more like goats
than sheep, with huge twisted tails that seemed almost
too heavy for them to carry, were picking up a weed
here and there on the hill-sides, while a wild Arab boy
kept watch near them. At intervals we passed some of
our fellow-passengers from the steamer, going to, or
returning from, the Camp, because, as one of them
remarked, " One must go somewhere, and there was

214 almebia's castle.

nowhere else to go.'* Mrs. Collier was ftill of pity for
the dwellers in such a place, but Colonel Clay laughed
at her.

" I assure you, Anne," he remarked, " I have known
people praise it. They even learn to like the brackish
water which you found so objectionable for your coffee
this morning, and complain, when they go elsewhere,
of the insipidity of purer springs."

'^ I dare say happiness can grow here just as those
pretty little flowers — (do stop and let me get them,
papa !) — grow on this scanty soil, but it looks a dreary
place."

This was quite true, and yet I left Aden with a
heavy heart, for here we bade my father farewell. It
was at five in the afternoon that a message was sent
from the steamer, to tell us the coaling was finished,
and we must go on board immediately. My mother's
face was whiter than ever, as she sat in the boat with
her hand clasped in my father's, but she kept back her
tears, and did not attempt to speak. When we reached
the ship, my father took her down to her cabin,
motioning to me to remain on deck, and I waited,
crying quietly, beside Mrs. Collier, who, though she
was talking to her husband and Colonel Clay, yet did
not forget to give me a squeeze of the hand, to assure
me of her sympathy.

ADEN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO. 215

" We shall soon be back again with you," she was
saying to Colonel Clay, " and Godfrey is so well now,
that ours will be only a pleasure-trip."

The anchor was up, all boats were ordered to leave
the ship, and a scene of clamour prevailed. Some of
the idle passengers were leaning over the side, tossing
small coins into the water, to be dived for by the
grinning fishermen, whose shrill cries added to the
general confusion. My father came up the ladder,
took me in his arms, and stood for a moment near Mrs.
Collier, who said, as she gave him her hand, " Trust
me, we will do all we can for them. We will see them
safely through to Alexandria, if possible, and I will
send you word how they fare."

" I know you will, God bless you ! " he answered, in
a voice very unlike his own : then, pressing me to his
heart, he set me down on the deck, went over the side
without looking back, and was soon far behind us. I
remember with what a bitter cry I stretched my arms
out towards his receding figure, and how tenderly
Mrs. Collier soothed me. She soon took me to my
mother, who welcomed her like a sister ; and gradually
the sad evening passed by.

The first half of our six days' voyage up the Red
Sea was a time of distress to all on board, from the
excessive heat of the weather. The sick and weakly

216 almeria's castle.

were fainting for want of air ; the children screamed,
and the strongest persons were in a state of misery,
sitting under windsails that no breeze would fill. As
we advanced, a north wind met us, and all things
improved. We could now enjoy the gorgeous sunsets
behind the African hills, that stood, purple, jagged,
and broken, against the wonderful brightness of the
western sky ; and the moonlit evenings were unspeak-
ably delightful. As we neared Suez, our talk was of
the IsraeKtes, and some one on board pointed out
different spots noted in the sacred story.

At Suez, a friend of Mr. Collier's came off to fetch
us in his large boat, as soon as our great steamer had
anchored ; and from the boat we were carried on shore,
one by one, in a chair, by brawny Arab boatmen ; and
conducted to the large hotel. It was afternoon, and we
had already dined, so we took a private sitting-room
with a divan round the walls, and then Mr. Collier
went to ascertain when our desert journey would begin.
"We looked disconsolate enough at first, in the midst of
our bags and shawls, and baby wailed dolefully till
my mother seemed inclined to cry with him ; but
presently Mrs. Collier settled her comfortably on the
divan, took the baby, and hushed him to sleep, while
Mrs. Armstrong, who was an experienced traveller,
went to hunt up the materials for a comfortable tea,

ADEN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO. 217

and had set forth a tempting display by the time Mr.
Collier returned. Before sitting down, he took us to a
window overlooking the landing-place, where a crowd
of Arabs were busy loading camels with the luggage
from our steamer, slinging the boxes in coarse nets of
rope, while the animals growled and grunted in vain
remonstrance, as they knelt on the sands. Mr. Collier
brought us one piece of good news. His friend had
secured for Mrs. Collier a carriage belonging to the
Pasha, instead of one of the rough little vans that
were then used for the transit across the desert, and
this vehicle was of so large a size that it would contain
us all ; but we were not to set forth till midnight, on
account of some difficulty about horses. Before dark,
while the invalids rested, Mrs. Collier and I went up
to the flat roof of the hotel, to see the sands stretching
away north, and east, and west, and to talk of the
wonders of the Red Sea while its waters were still in
our sight.

At midnight we were called from slumbers rendered
very uneasy by the variety of insects that were buzzing,
biting, and stinging about us, and conducted to a court-
yard where a huge English carriage awaited us. A
crowd of swarthy Arabs were round it, gesticulating
violently, and talking in tones that seemed those of
fury, though Mr. Collier assured us it was only their

218 almeria's castlf.

usual manner of speecli. Some of them were holding
pans, formed of iron bars, on the top of long poles,
and filled with blazing logs, whose fitful light danced
over the faces of the crowd; some clung to the six
horses, wild-looking as themselves, and harnessed with
rope to our vehicle. One van was to accompany us;
all the rest were already gone. At last we were
packed, the driver mounted his box, the postilion was
on the leader, and we moved off across the sand. In
a few minutes the glare of the torches and the shouts
of the crowd were far behind us, and the mysterious
Desert stretched away to the right and left, just visible
by the light of the newly risen moon.

In spite of the strangeness of the circumstances, I
was soon lulled to sleep by the movement of the car-
riage, and only woke occasionally, when we stopped to
change .horses at the different stations. I remember
with what a hollow sound the wind came sweeping over
the sandy plain ; and how wild a cry, reminding me of
the jackals in India, was sometimes borne to our ears
while we paused. The same loud chattering, the same
pans of fire, the same crowd of dark faces, occurred at
every station. The grey dawn broke at length, and
the sun rose with burning heat, for the shamseen, — the
hot wind, — was blowing, and we were obliged to keep
the carriage-windows closely shut, though even then

ADEN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO. 219

our faces and hair were powdered with fine dust. At
one station we breakfasted at a table spread with cold
geese, cold ducks, cold fowls, and English cheese. As
we toiled on afterwards over the sandy flats, flushed,
and thirsty, and tired, I suddenly saw at some little
distance, a lovely blue river, with palm-trees tossed by
the wind, growing on its" banks. The sight filled me
with an inexpressible longing for the cool fresh water,
and my exclamations called the attention of the whole
party to the agreeable scene. We saw it for several
minutes, and then, even while I was imploring Mr.
Collier to make the men drive us nearer to those green,
shady banks, a tinge of yellow came through the blue,
the trees faded into air, and nothing was left but the
hot sand with the hot air floating above it. I rubbed
my eyes in amazement, while Mrs. Collier laughed as
she exclaimed, " There, Clary ! you have really had a
glimpse of fairy-land : you have seen the mirage of the
Desert."

At the central station we paused for some time ; and
while the invalids lay down to rest after dinner, Mrs.
Collier and I placed ourselves near the window, trying
to believe the air was growing cooler. Through the
archway in front, we could see the palace, then lately
built by Abbas Pasha, crowning a sandy hill ; and
while we looked, we became aware of a number of

220 alheria's castle.

figures moying thence towards us, across tlie inter
yening plain. Nearer and nearer they appproached,
till we saw them distinctly: Arab soldiers in bright
dresses, well mounted and well armed, surrounding a
green chariot, in which reclined the enormous person of
the Pasha himself; two white dromedaries, with trap-
pings of red velvet, and ridefs gaily clad ; and a troop
of youths belonging to the household, — gay wild boys,
who rode beautiful horses, and challenged each other to
many a mad gallop on the sand. The carriage paused
that the Pasha might speak to the station-master, and
I had a horrible dread that he might be going to take
away our comfortable vehicle, if it had been lent with-
out his permission. No such sad catastrophe occurred,
however. A beautiful charger, white as snow, was led
near, the Pasha left the carriage, mounted his horse,
and the whole bright party swept away again towards
the palace, leaving us in doubt whether their appear-
ance had been a reality.

" Was it another mirage, Clary ? " Mrs. Collier said.
" We are on enchanted ground, and one hardly knows
what to believe, little one ; but I am glad we saw that
fine sight."

Now and then, as we travelled on, we met a line of
dromedaries, heavily laden, tramping wearily along ;
sometimes, a few Arab families moving with all their

ADEN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO. 221

worldly possessions; or a handsome scheik, all green and
gold, with a few followers, mounted on spirited horses.
Occasionally, the skeleton of camel or horse by th^ way-
side would remind us of the perils of the road, but on
the whole, the daylight portion of our journey was suffi-
ciently cheerful. Yet we hailed with delight the build-
ings of Cairo, tfte green trees and strips of cultivation
that showed we were drawing near to the Nile. Patches
of weeds and tufts of camel's- thorn we had often passed
in the Desert, but this wealth and radiance of green we
now saw before us, could only be produced by the waters
of the great river. By four in the afternoon we were
established at Shepherd's Hotel, in large rooms that over-
looked the Esbequier Gardens, and here we were to
remain, to give my mother a fortnight's rest before pro-
ceeding on our way. This fortnight was a time of in-
tense enjoyment to me, and I soon felt quite at home
in the narrow streets, crowded with camels, donkeys,
and foot-passengers ; or in the gardens, where groups
sat on the ground/ listening to a tale-teller, who, with
much action, was probably relating the story of the
princess that ate rice with a bodkin, or some other
legend from the Arabian Nights ; and musicians with
oddly shaped instruments made monotonous sounds that
were pleasant and not unmusical, while their audience sat
on the ground, sipping sherbet. Mr. and Mrs. Collier

222 almeria's castle.

took me with them to see many of the sights of the
city. Oar first expedition was to the citadel, whence
we overlooked Cairo, with its strangely mingled variety
of palaces, ruins, and mosques; the woods of date-
palms ; the wide river with its lovely banks, — a green-
bordered ribbon winding among the sand ;— and far
away on the yellow plain, those wonderful pyramids,
which seemed to grow in size and in interest while we
looked upon them ; and farther yet the illimitable
Desert. By and by we visited the Pasha's palace close
by, very splendid in my eyes, with its damask divans,
and chandeliers of coloured crystal. Mrs. Collier was
more deUghted with the stiU unfinished mosque, begun
by Mehemet Ali. The building was lined with veined
alabaster, and the double columns of the cloisters weriB
of the same exquisite material.

" I have heard," Mr. Collier said, as we stood under
the vast dome, still disfigured with scaffolding, "that
Mehemet Ali believed he could not die till the mosque
was finished. Some feeling of remorse for the massacre
of the Mamelukes perhaps prompted him to build a
temple here; but he will have mouldered in his grave
many a year before this building is finished."

" Do you know, I saw Mehemet Ali a very short time
before his death," observed Mrs. Collier. "He was
cruising about the Mediterranean by desire of his phy-

ADEN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO. 223

sicians at the time I was on iny way to India, and he
landed at Malta, and was taken to visit the Governor on
the very day that our steamer was coaling at Valetta.
My friends took me with them to the court of the
Governor's house, and we saw the old Pasha carried
up-stairs in a tarnished velvet sedan-chair that might
have been a state conveyance in former days of the
Grand Master of the Knights of St. John."

"Did you see his face?" asked Mr. Collier.

" Yes, verj^ distinctly, and a strangely acute face it
was, with the burning, restless eye of a caged wild
beast. His pictures are very like him, except that no
picture could express that fierce, terrible eye."

We went afterwards to the mosque of the Sultan
Hassan. The great gate of entrance was surmounted
with fretwork, that reminded my companions of stalac-
tites on the roof of a cavern. Within, was the usual
square court, with a fountain in the centre, and a large
apartment beyond it ; but my attention was most ex-
cited by an inner chamber under the dome, where stood
the tomb of the founder of the mosque. Near this, our
guide pointed to some dark stains ou the pavement, and
told a long story which Mr. Collier interpreted for us.
The tale was to this effect : — The great Mameluke Sultan
Hassan, having gone into a far country on business, the
Yizier left in charge of the government, usurped the

224 almerta's castle.

supreme power, and refused to resign it when his former
master returned. Hassan therefore departed, unfriended
and alone, and the usurper remained on the throne.
When many years had passed by, there came to Cairo
a rich and holy Dervish, who declared it to be his
intention to spend his wealth in the erection of a
mosque ; and thus rose the largest and stateliest mosque
in the city. When it was finished, the usurper and
all the inhabitants were invited to a grand feast of
consecration, in the very midst of which the Dervish
threw off his dark robe, and showed himself to be the
long-lost Hassan. He clapped his hands, and a crowd
of armed men rushed in, seized the traitorous Vizier,
and killed him before his master's eyes, while the
people joyfully returned to their allegiance. In proof
of the story, did we not see the stains on the pavement?
I must say I looked with added interest, after this tele,
on Hassan's simple marble tomb within its railing, and
longed to touch th^ illuminated copy of the Koran that
lay upon it.

Another of our expeditions was to the mosque of
Amur, the oldest of all the four hundred mosques of
Cairo, and now ruinous. Its numerous marble pillars
are said to have been taken from the remains of the
Egyptian Babylon, built by the Romans near this spot,
—the Babylon whence St. Peter wrote his first Epistle.

ADEN, THE DESEET, AND CAIRO, 225

In one part we found two pillars very close together,
rubbed to a glossy condition by the struggles of enthu-
siastic Mussulmen to force their bodies between them ;
it being believed that only the faithful can accomplish
the feat. We did not see any attempt made, and it was
difficult to suppose that even the thinnest of men could
get through the difficult test. Returning hence, we
passed through various cemeteries, and stopped to enter
a beautiful Saracenic tomb, to which once a year the
family of the dead repaired to dwell for a week, and
meditate, I suppose, on the world to come. The tomb
consisted of three or four chambers, in the largest of
which was a raised marble mound, with five narrow
stones planted at the head, all covered with Arabic
letters of red and blue, and the central one surmounted
with a silken turban. Through a large window,
filled, like most of the windows at Cairo, with a
delicate fretwork of carved wood instead of glass, the
evening sunshine streamed down on this picturesque
grave. The rest of the family tombs were in a little
court beside a well. Hundreds of similar edifices were
on every side, rising from the dry yellowish sand. The
tombs of the Mameluke Sultans are a series of beautiful
temples on another side of the city. It was strange to
pass from the bustling streets full of life, to this other
city of silence and death ; and especially so, when, on

Q

2*26 ALMERIA*S CASTLE.

one or two occasions, some of the idle boTS Imd called
ont that we were Nazarenes, and thrown stones after ns
as we passed along the road. On a near approach to
the Mameluke tombs, howcTer, they are not found to
be solitary, for many a poor Arab family finds shelter
there, and the universal demand for " baksheesh " re-
sounds in the burial-place of kings.

I hardly remember cTen the names of the many
mosques we ftaw. One of those that pleased us tbe
most was that named after the brothers Hassan and
Hoseyn. A little black dwarf in a yellow turban was
perched on a post at the door, with a string of beads,
which he seemed to use as a rosary, chanting his
prayers the while, and bowing from side to side till I
thought he would fall to the ground. In the covered
court within the mosque, many-coloured carpets and
mats were laid on the floor, and on one of these a
teacher sat with his scholars in a ring about him,
dressed in garments of every colour, and chanting as
loudly as the little dwarf in the street. The shrine was
closed to Christian eyes, and was said to contain relics
of peculiar sanctity, even the head of one martyr, and
the hand of the other. I must mention one other
mosque, because few travellers are allowed to enter it,
and we were only admitted by special favour, led by the
consurs silver-sticked cawass, and guarded by sundry

ADEN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO. 227

officials. Our coming was evidently unwelcome, and
we were so hustled at one time, that our guards found
it necessary to make vigorous use of their sticks. I
speak of the mosque of El Azhar, a combination of
college and temple. The outer court was thronged
with people of many nations, belonging to the creed of
Mohammed. There were even several Cairene ladies in
their black silk robes, narrow white veils, and yellow
slippers ; while dark Moors sat on the edge of the foun-
tain, mending the ragged outer garments of which they
had just divested themselves. Solitary figures of all
ages, from grey hairs down to early childhood, sat
against the pillars that surrounded the court, chanting
like the little dwarf, with body swaying from side to
side ; or getting portions of the Koran by heart. Here,
a master was teaching the elements of knowledge to a
ring of boys ; there, an old blind beggar felt his way to
a favourite nook, or a group of black Africans chattered
loudly together, and showed their white teeth. As we
left the court, our guide led us into one of the many
chambers that surround it, and we paused to look at a
living picture. The light fell from a high window on
an old man, probably a Circassian, from his fair com-
plexion. His turban was white, his long white beard
fell over a dress of palest brown, and he sat on a
Persian carpet of the richest colours, cross-legged, his

Q 2

228 ai.meria's casile.

eyes closed, his attitude one of profound contemplation.
Beside him, and equally motionless, on another prayer-
carpet, but bent vith his forehead on the earth, was a
man clothed in white. The contrast between these
still, absorbed figures, and the noisy scene we had just
left, was too striking to be ever forgotten. We were
hurried out through the arches, with their pretty sus-
pended lamps, as the people were beginning to be
disturbed at the presence of the ^' Nazarenes," and
giving audible signs of dissatisfaction.

I was obliged to be content with a distant view of
the pyramids, but we made two or three pleasant
excursions outside of the city. One of these was to
the gardens of Shoobra, the road to which is on the
borders of the Nile, and shaded by an avenue of acacia-
trees, while the gardens themselves are fragrant and
delightful, with fanciful summer-houses and fountains,
like the garden of the Sleeping Beauty.

Another time we went to the Island of Khoda, where
Ibrahim Pasha had made a lovely garden, already
becoming a wilderness since his death. In one place,
Mr. Collier pulled aside heavy boughs laden with
cinnamon-roses, and bade me look over the wall, and
see the spot where Moses was found by Pharoah's
daughter. It might have been the place, but the
bulrushes were all gone !

ADEN, THE DBSEBT, AND CAIRO. 229

During those happy days at Cairo, we went to see
the Greek convent, which boasts the highest staircase I
ever ascended. From the topmost chambers, where we
rested, while an old woman brought us coflTee, the view
was, however, magnificent. A handsome old monk, in
a brown robe and with a black cap, — one of the few
remaining inmates of the convent,— took us into the
chapel, which is small but very old, and adorned with
many pictures. One of these was most peculiar. It
represented the Judgment-day. The Judge and the
Apostles sat on thrones along the top of the canvas :
in the centre was a crowd of men and women, some
aided by angels to mount upwards : and, in the lower
part of the picture, was a huge dragon's head sending
out flames and smoke, while near the open mouth
stood a number of demons, throwing nooses over
individuals among the central crowd, and pulling
them into the flames. The picture looked very old, and
we examined it with great interest. The chapel was
dedicated to St. George, and there was a very odd re-
presentation of his combat with the dragon. A supposed
portrait of him in armour, with large sad eyes, pleased
us very much. While we were examining these things,
and Mr. Collier talked to the old monk, a lady came
into the chapel, followed by her servant. She took off
the great black robe that had covered her whole figure.

230 almeria's castle.

and handed it to her follower, and we saw that she was
young and fair, wearing a lilac dress, and pearls plaited
into her flaxen locks. She did not seem to see us, but
went near the screen which (as in all Greek churches)
hid the altar from us, kissed the inlaid woodwork, and
knelt for some time, praying silently. We left her
still praying, with the servant standing stolidly in the
background, when we stole softly away. In the Coptic
church to which we afterwards repaired, (passing
through the dirty Coptic quarter, where the people
seemed pleased to see us, and even patted our shoulders
as we passed,) we saw an underground cave, which
is said to have sheltered the Holy Family when they
fled from Herod. The Copt who showed us the
building, carried me through a trap-door, and down a
narrow stair to see this rocky recess, and I was not
sorrv when we returned to the lieht of dav. The
church was small, with a handsome altar-screen inlaid
with ivory.

Our last trip was to Heliopolis, the " On " of Scripture.
In a garden of lemon-trees, with runnels of water
perpetually supplied from the well near the gate, and
bordered with lettuces and other fresh green vegetables,
stands a solitary obelisk. The hieroglyphics with
which its surface is covered, are filled up in parts by
dried honey-combs, around which the wild bees may

A1>BN, THE DESERT, AND CAIRO. 231

even now be heard to buzz. Their hum, the running
of the water, and the droning of the water-wheel as the
ox treads his rounds, are the only sounds to be heard
in that pleasant place. The Arab who showed it to us
had as a companion, a little grey monkey with a gold
ring in its ear, and he was highly gratified by our
notice of the little creature, which took my ofiered hand
and stepped down from a bough, like a dainty lady
stepping from her carriage. Some more obelisks had
lately been discovered beyond the bounds of the garden,
and they were still half covered with sand. We walked
across fields to the garden of Matarieh, and were
instantly attacked by some boys for "baksheesh." The
garden, however, was very charming, with hedges of
rosemary and bowers of citron-trees ; and as at Helio-
polis we had talked of Joseph, the son of Jacob, who
married a daughter of Potipherah, the priest of On, so
here, in these lovely shades, we spoke of the other
Joseph, who brought the Holy Child and His mother
into Egypt : for in the midst of the garden of Matarieh
is a sycamore-tree, said to have afforded shelter to the
Holy Family. The vast trunk is now like a rock, from
which young branches grow, and we tried hard to
believe it might be as old as the legend pretended.
The great water-wheel was at work here also, and we
lingered for awhile to watch the stream flow into the

232 almebia's castle.

channels beside trees and plants, carrying f resliness and
verdure with it.

We spent some pleasant hours in a museum of
Egyptian antiquities collected by a Br. Abbott. Here
were mummies of human beings, bulls, apes, cats, and
birds ; the human heads covered with long reddish hair
in silken plaits. There was a mummy-case, empty,
except for a few tough lotus-leaves that lay within it,
dark and shrivelled ; and to this Dr. Abbott called our
special attention. The case showed us a model of the
face of its former occupant, the features regular, and the
colouring fresh and bright as if laid on yesterday ; and
yet this was the coffin of a priestess who had been con-
temporary with Joseph and his brethren. Dr. Abbott
told us he had tried to unwrap her mummy, but it fell
to dust when touched, and no relic remained of the
beautiful priestess, but a few of the dead lotus-leaves
that had formed her wreath.

CHAPTER XII.

THE GREAT SORROW.

i E passed our Easter at Cuiro : in the
quiet mornings I read aloud to my
mother the narrative of the Plagues
of Egypt ; and on Easter Sunday I
went with Mrs. Collier to the little English chapel.
The windows were, of course, open ; and during the
service, several whit« doves flew in and perched them-
selves above the altar, where they remained to the close,
cooing softly, but causing no interruption.

On our arrival at Cairo, Mr. Collier had engaged an
Arab attendant, wlio {having made the pilj^mage to
Mecca incumbent on a good Mussulman) was called

234 ALMEBIA*S CASTLE.

Hadji, or Pilgrim^ Selim. This man was very useful
to us as guide and interpreter, wlien Mr. Collier's
knowledge fell short of our needs, and one of his duties
also was to wield a fly-flapper incessantly during our
meals, otherwise the food would soon have been black-
ened with the myriads of flies that settled on it. Kadji
Selim took us to the bazaars, and endeavoured to stir
up the merchants who sat, cross-legged and indifiereut,
amoDg their wares, to condescend to pay some attention
to our wishes. Without him, we should never have
obtained the pretty embroidered slippers, turned up at
the toes, which I have kept to this day in remem-
brance of Cairo. He was to go with us to Alexandria,
whither Mr. and Mrs. Collier had long since expressed
their intention of accompanying my mother. She,
poor soul ! had seen but little of the wonders of the
city; but she used to lie on a divan, and watch the
crowd in the Esbequier gardens, the donkeys with their
gay trappings, and the camels grumbling as they knelt
to jeceive their load, or trudging quietly along when
once laden. Of Cairo, with its four hundred mosques
and sixty-nine gates, its palaces with pretty wooden
lattices, and its crumbling ruins, this was all that
she saw.

At eight o'clock one lovely morning we left Cairo,
on the deck of a steamer, with a motley crowd of

THE GREAT SORROW. 235

passengers. As we pushed off, a troop of beggars,
most of them afflicted with blindness, so frequent in
Egypt, shouted aloud for " baksheesh," from the landing-
stairs, and one old woman, attired in the usual dark
blue dress of the country, shook her lean arm and
screeched after us as long as we were within hearing.
Then we began to observe our fellow-passengers. There
was an old French nun in a dress of white serge, a
Sister of Mercy, on her way from Cairo to visit the
parent convent at Angers; a kind, gentle-mannered
woman, who was ready to help every body. There
was the wife of a foreign consul with her affected
daughter, both dressed in the height of Parisian
fashion, and accompanied by the old mother of the
former, a Greek lady of portentous size, who made it
her business to inquire into the affairs of every one
else on the steamer. She wore on her head a fez, or
cap of scarlet cloth, with a blue silk tassel, and around
the cap was arranged a plait of grey hair, with a
cockade of blue muslin pinned in the front. Her dress
of striped Brusa silk set loosely over a habit-shirt of
plaited white muslin, and she wore white cotton stock-
ings, and heavy shoes with steel buckles. Besides these
people and a German botanist from the mountains of
Abyssinia, there were several parties of English re-
turning from the Nile trip, some of them so lively.

236 almeria's castle.

that I heard Mrs. Collier remark, their animation was
quite refreshing after the languor of the Anglo-Indians
to whom she had been accustomed of late. As the
hours wore on, and we grew weary of watching the
banks, (monotonous and flat after passing the unfinished
" barrage " for damming up the waters of the Nile,)
the villages of huts, the woods of date-palms, and water-
wheels worked by bullocks or camels, the peculiarities
of our fellow-passengers were observed with more in-
terest; but by degrees this amusement also was ex-
hausted, and we wished the old Greek lady were
less inquisitive, and her granddaughter less lively.
It was even a grief to us that the consul's wife
peeled her orange at dinner with the ^same knife
with which she had just cut large pieces of cheese
and put them into her mouth. We were tired of
every thing, even of the boats with their double sails
like huge white wings, which had seemed beautiful
in the morning ; and the wedge-shaped flocks of wild
geese passing like clouds far above the Nile. But the
long day came to an end at last ; the sun sank beneath
the low western bank of the river, and the stars came
softly out. I had fallen asleep on deck, when, at about
ten o'clock, the stopping of the vessel awoke me. In a
few moments Mr, Collier was carrying me ashore, my
mother following in the arms of a strong Arab, with

I

IHB GREAT SORROW. 237

Mrs. Collier exhorting the man to be careful, in words
which he probably did not understand, and Mrs. Arm-
strong bringing up the rear with my little brother in
her arms. We were leaving the Nile steamer for the
canal-boat, a long narrow vessel drawn by a little
steam-tug ; and a number of porters, laden with
luggage, were soon rushing wildly from one boat to
the other, in the darkness, along the uneven shore.
A torch here and . there only added to the confusion,
which was not lessened by the shouts of the old Greek
lady for her boxes, and her granddaughter's anxiety
for her lap-dog.

By and by the transfer was complete, the boat glided
on, and we had time to observe our whereabouts. We
were in a cabin styled by courtesy, the " ladies' saloon,"
furnished with two deal tables and a divan covered
with carpet, the whole illuminated by a single candle
with cauliflower- wick, stuck into a dirty brass candle-
stick. The old Greek lady screamed aloud to let every
one know that her bundle of shawls, especially provided
for this occasion, as she knew the nights were chilly
on the water, had been put into the hold under all the
luggage. Her wailings so disturbed my mother, that
Mrs. Collier lent her a cloak, and induced her to use
one of our carpet-bags as a cushion. This put her into
better humour, but she chattered in a loud voice till

288 almeria's castle.

three in the mornings and would not let any body
sleep; and when at last she dozed, her snoring was
almost more annoying than her conversation had been.
We were thankful when morning released us from our
prison, and we could go on deck. At length we sighted
the broad surface of Lake Mareotis, with its desolate
rushy shores, and before we reached Alexandria, every
one crowded up from below. The lively young lady
was there, with her lap-dog on her arm ; but in the**
midst of her conversation with the German botanist,
she recollected she had left her smelling-bottle in the
cabin, and flew to seek it, having first turned to Mr.
Collier, who sat near, plunged in thought, and exclaim-
ing, "Pray take care of this for me," deposited her
precious dog in his lap. His dismay diverted us all,
and she remained so long absent, that he had ample
time to become acquainted with the vicious temper of
the animal.

We landed at last amid the usual turmoil ; donkeys
and donkey-boys, groaning camels, and noisy porters.
Some kind of vehicle was found for mv mother, and
we were soon established at Kay's Hotel, where we
were to await the next English-bound steamer. The
wide, hot streets and squares were far less interesting
than those of Cairo, though a bridal procession we
met on our way from the boat, — the bride so wrapped

THE GKEAT SORROW. 23d

in shawls, that she could scarcely move under the gay
red canopy held above her head, — reminded us of the
place we had left. During the next few days, we
saw all the sights of the neighbourhood, stood under
Pompey's Pillar, lingered near Cleopatra's Needle, to
look over the blue bay towards the castle of the Pharos ;
and, lastly, I went with Mrs. Collier to visit the harem
of a member of the Pasha's family. The lady we visited
was a Circassian by birth, fair, tall, and graceful, with
blue eyes and brown hair. Over her gold-coloured
dress she wore a loose pelisse of green, trimmed with
sable, and on her head was an embroidered cap with a
handkerchief tied round it. She received us standing,
in a room with walls painted in Arabesque, and divan
covered with embroidered satin. After an exchange
of compliments through a lady who acted as inter-
preter, every one sat down, and an attendant brought
in some long pipes. To my amazement, I saw one of
these given to Mrs. Collier, who applied its mouthpiece
of amber, set with brilliants, to her lips, and sent forth
a cloud of smoke. Presently a pretty stool, inlaid with
mother-of-pearl was placed before us, and a tray set
thereon with tiny cups in golden stands, filled with
black coffee, of which even I was expected to partake.
I thought it worse than any physic I had ever tasted,
but the eye of the beautiful princess was upon me, and

240 ALMER1A.'8 CASTLE.

I swallowed it. Perhaps my effort pleased her, for the
lady- interpreter announced that the adopted child of
the house had been sent for, that I might be introduced
to her. She came, a bright-eyed fairy in outlandish
dress, and I was called from Mrs. Collier's side to be
presented to her notice. I fear I disgraced my good-
breeding, for when I saw that the eyes not only of the
princess, but also of every one of the smiling attendants,
were fixed on me, I fairly ran back to Mrs. Collier, and
clung to her arm, refusing to leave it any more, in spite
of her whispered entreaties. This circumstance brought
our visit to rather an awkward termination, and has left
a sting in the recollection of it.

Meantime, we hourly expected the steamer that was
to take us away ; and one night, awakened by a sudden
noise, I saw a lad}^ and gentleman in the doorway, bag
in hand, and heard them say in desponding tones, '^ All
full here." The next morning we heard that the Indian
passengers had arrived from Cairo during the night,
and that the English steamer was in the offing. A few
hours later we were actually on board, and the moment
was near when we were to part with our good friends.
They had made every possible arrangement for my
mother's comfort, and persuaded Mrs. Armstrong that
the cabin assigned to us was not so very small as she
had at first considered it. My mother was laid on the

IHE GREAT SORROW. 241

Bofa-bed, with a soft breeze blowing on her through the
port-hole, when Mrs. Collier bent over her to say good-
bye. There were whispered words which I did not
hear, but in reply to them, my mother shook her head
and said aloud^ " No, dear ; no more in this world !
never, never!" Then there were more whispers, and
Mrs. Collier turned away with tears running down her
cheeks. She led me up on deck and sat down, taking
me on her knee. I was sobbing bitterly now, and she
did not attempt to check me; indeed, she seemed to
find it difficult to speak.

" Clary, dear little friend," she said, at length, " there
is one thing I must say to you before we part. Cling
to your mother. Clary ; never vex her, never grieve
her; and remember, my child, — whatever may happen,
— remember this; that as long as you livej you will
never know any body better, nobler, wiser, with all true
wisdom, than your mother — happy Clary, if you ever
know any half as good! Bear this in mind. Clary,
always, always, whatever may happen to you."

I clung to her, sobbing out a promise to remember
her words. The time came, long afterwards, when I
understood them better. A few moments later, and I
was watching the boat that conveyed my friends back
to the shore. My eyes were dry then; I was too
miserable for tears ; my childish heart seemed bursting

R

242 ALMERIA*S CASTTLE.

with sorrow. I saw Mrs. Collier turn and wave lier
handkerchief, and then I felt I must have sympathy,
and I ran, almost falling headlong down the companion-
ladder, to my mother's cabin, and found there the love
and tenderness I craved. Even Mrs. Armstrong was
very gentle with me, and spoke of Mrs. Collier as she
seldom spoke of any one except my mother, regretting
that we were no longer to travel in her company and
her husband's.

There was some infectious sickness among the chil-
dren on board our new steamer, and Mrs. Armstrong
did not allow me to mix with them, so my voyage to
England was uneventftil and quiet. At Malta, where
we remained in quarantine a few hours, some friends of
Mrs. Collier's came off to us with new-laid eggs and
fine oranges. Afterwards we had glimpses of the snow-
clad summits of Mount Atlas on the African shore ; and
later, of the Spanish mountains, with towns and chest-
nut-woods in their hollows. At Gibraltar we stopped
again for coal, but were still in quarantine, and could
not land. The coast of Portugal was past. Cape St.
Vincent with its ruined convent, and at length we were
in sight of England. When we landed at Southampton,
Mrs. Armstrong took charge of the party, and seemed
to decide every thing, my mother passively yielding to
her suggestions. Accordingly we pursued our way, as

THE GREAT SORROW. 243

*

soon as our luggage had passed the custom-house, to a
little sea-side village in Hampshire, and took possession
of some decent lodgings in a row of houses called Well-
ington-terrace. Our new rooms were very small, but
the windows looked on a strip of garden-ground where
a few trees and shrubs struggled for existence, and
beyond this was the shingly beach, over which it was
my delight to watch the waves roll day after day.

My recollections of the next three years are far less
distinct than of the scenes I have already described, for
there was little variety to mark the flight of time. For
awhile my mother rallied, and was able to move about
the house and even walk on the sands, but the improve-
ment was short-lived, and she soon resumed her invalid
habits. I was sent to a day-school at the comer of our
terrace, but it was from my mother that I derived the
most valuable part of my education. Meanwhile, my
little brother grew and prospered. He learned to walk
on the strip of sand the tide left bare below the shingle,
and he was the pet of all the boatmen who loitered
about the shore. He was left to their attention more
and more, for Mrs. Armstrong was required at home.

All this time, ray father remained in India, and
though we heard from him often, we had no hope of his
coming home. His letters recalled to me the old days
at Bombay, which otherwise might have seemed like a

r2

244 almeria's casttle.

dream. From my dear Mrs. Collier we also heard at
no distant intervals. She had not been without
anxieties of her own, for Mr. Collier's health had
never been so good since the illness that preceded his
journey to Egypt, and as they went at the proper sea-
sons to Poonah and to the hills, spending only the cool
weather at Bombay, they saw less of my father than
formerly. Towards the close of the third year of our
separation, Mr. Collier was ordered to the Cape of Good
Hope, and thither his wife accompanied him, with the
two infant children who had been bom to her mean-
time. She wrote us glowing accounts of the climate
and the scenery of the Cape, where she was to remain
two years.

So the days passed quietly on for me in Wellington-
terrace, Shrimpton. I had little to say to my school-
fellows after lessons were over, for they had had rougher
nurture than I, and were of a ruder sort than I liked ;
so little Charlie, my brother, was almost my only play-
mate, and my mother ray only friend. Mrs. Armstrong
was sharp with me, as of old, but I had learnt to like
her better for the love she bore my mother. She still
did all the household work for us, and relieved my
mother of all trouble, stitching busily at our clothes
when not otherwise occupied for us.

One afternoon in April, three years after our arrival

THE GREAT SORROW. 245

in England, I was returning from school with my little
bag of books in my hand, singing idle snatches of a
nursery-song that Charlie liked, when I saw Mrs. Arm-
strong standing at our door and beckoning to me to
hasten home. ''Go to your mamma, Miss Clarissa,"
she said, as soon as I reached her. " She has had letters
from India, and she wants to see you."

I threw down my books in the passage, and softly
opened the door of our little parlour. The scene rises
before me now : the room with its bright paper, the
chintz sofa drawn to the open window, whence between
the muslin curtains might be seen a few low trees in the
garden and the glancing sea beyond; the little table
beside the couch, with its litter of papers and needle-
work, and the bunch of primroses I had placed there
the day before; and on the couch, her usually wan
cheek flushed, her eyes bright and restless, and her
thin hands clasped, lay my mother. As I looked at
her, a sickening fear for the first time crept over me.
I had been used to see her always ill, but to-day I
trembled as I watched her. Perhaps she read some-
thing of my feelings in my face, for she kissed me with
especial tenderness, and kept my hand in hers, as she
made room for me to sit on the edge of her couch.

. " I have had letters from papa. Clary," she said
presently ; " he is well, he says, and he writes more

246 almeria's castle.

hopefully than usual ; but he was just going to set out
on a long and, as I fear, perilous expedition. His
employers wanted to send some person on whose judg-
ment they could rely, to Thibet. It is some question
about wool, I believe. Your father has volunteered to
go, and if he succeeds in his mission, he expects great
advantages to accrue to ns all ; but oh ! Clary, we can-
not get letters from him while he is away. This is the
last letter, Clary, the very last !"

She hid her face for awhile, and I did not like to
disturb her, but she looked up presently with a calmer
face, and unfolding her letter, read to me the plan of
my father's expedition, and made me fetch my atlas
that we might trace his route on the map. Uncon-
sciously we grew more. cheerful over our employment,
and when Charlie came in, bright and rosy, from his
afternoon's sleep, he was received with smiles. Mrs.
Armstrong's anxious looks brightened when she brought
in our tea, and the evening was cheerful as usual ; but
as I lay awake at night, I felt the shadow of a great
trouble on my heart, and when, about midnight, Mrs.
Armstrong crept softly into the closet which I occupied,
I sat up in my bed, and beckoned her to come to my
bedside.

** What is the matter, Miss Clarissa P" she said, very
softly. ** You are waking late to-night."

THE GREAT SORROW. 247

I put my arm round her neck, and drew her ear down
close to ray lips, but even then I hardly knew how to
put into words that which I had to say.

"Don't keep me, my dear," she continued, with
unusual gentleness. " Your mamma may think there
is something the matter if I don't go back soon. What
is it. Miss Clarissa?"

" It is about her," I whispered, " it is about mamma.
Oh, do tell me about her ! Is she very ill ? is she
worse?"

" Why ?" asked Mrs. Armstrong ; " what makes you
ask, my dear ? Do you think she is weaker ?"

" Oh ! I don't know. I don't know ! " I said, " but
I thought of it to-day, and I am frightened. Is she
very ill ? Do you think she is very bad ?"

"God knows," she answered, rubbing the back of
her hand across her eyes. " The doctor says she isn't
weaker, but I sometimes fear she is ; and this trouble
to-day has done her no good. You mustn't make an
ado. Miss Clarissa. It's bad for her to be troubled
about any thing, and you must keep your trouble to
yourself. Let me go now."

" But tell me," I persisted, still clinging to the old
woman's neck, "is she very ill, very, very ill?"

" I am afraid she is, Miss Clarissa, sadly afraid of it,"
was the reply; "but I hear her moving, and I must

248 almeria's castle.

go/' and gently laying me back on my pillow, and
giving me an unwonted kiss, she left me alone in the
dark, alone with my grief. For awhile I lay like one
stunned, and then I rose, and kneeling on the boards
with my face buried in the bedclothes, prayed with
passionate tears that God would spare my mother's life.
I know not how long I prayed, but I woke at dawn still
kneeling there, cold and dull, and crept into my bed
to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, that lasted till I was
called in the morning. The wind had risen during the
night, the sea was moaning hoarsely, and the rain
pattering against the window. I should have been
sorry for the bad weather at any other time, but to-day
I did not care for it. What did it matter P what did
any thing matter now ? Who would help me ? Oh !
if only Mrs. Collier were in England ! And then came
to me the remembrance of my dear friend's last words
to me, and of my promise on parting with her. Yes !
I would keep it faithfully. I would not vex my mother
I would do every thing I could for her as long as I
might. I must not trouble her with my grief. So,
when I had dressed myself, I knelt again and prayed
not only for that precious life, but also that I might
never be selfish and forgetful ; and then I went down-
stairs, and did not cry when the wasted hand took mine,
and the dear wan face was lighted up with a smile of

THE GREAT SORROW. 249

welcome. After breakfast, wben I was collecting my
books before going to scbool, my mother said,

" It is so wet, Clary, I think you had better not go
out. Will you mind staying with me ?"

I need not say how gladly I stayed. In the after-
noon came the only friend my mother had at Shrirapton,
the clergyman of the village, an old man without wife
or child. I was present during a part of his visit, and
his gentle kindness made me determine to tell him of
the heavy burden of sorrow that was pressing on my
young heart, but I had no opportunity on that day.

I have not said much of my brother Charlie, who all
this time was growing and strengthening into a
beautiful boy. Mrs. Armstrong had trained him to be
very good and gentle in the sick-room ; out of it he
was fearless and gay as any bird. We loved to trace
in his bonny features a resemblance to my father,
which, indeed, was very striking, and he was the subject
of many a day-dream to my mother as well as to my-
self. His merry unconscious ways helped me to bear
the burden of my sorrow, and cheered us all, in spite of
ourselves. It was not long before I saw the old clergy-
man again. I was in the garden when he came out
after a long interview with my mother, and he took me
by the hand and said I should go home with him to
fetch a book she wanted. As soon as we were out of

250 almeria's castle.

sight of our house, I stopped, and looking up wistfully,
contrived to say, " What do you think about her, Mr.
Walcot? Is she really so Very, very ill?" and then
my tears stopped my saying more.

"Poor child! poor little Clary!" he said gently;
"don't cry so, my little woman. We must take
patiently what Gods sends us. For her sake you must
be good, my child."

I knew by his words that he took the same view of
my mother's state as Mrs. Armstrong, and for awhile I
could not be comforted. He was very gentle with me,
and bade me apply to him whenever I wanted help, and
never fail to send whenever my mother should wish to
see him. By the time I left him to return home, I was
calm again, and glad to think he would always be our
friend.

I think I remember every hour of the next two
months, but it was a time too sad and sacred for me to
write of here. After the first fortnight I ceased to go
to school, and shared with Mrs. Armstrong the duties
of nursing the dear invalid and taking care of Charlie.
I was already grave and careful beyond my years, and
these weeks of watching, of hourly intercourse with one
"wise with the truest wisdom," and whose pure spirit
was passing into the light of a better world, made me
almost a woman in thoughtfulness. "JSo letters came

THE GREAT SORROW. 251

from my father : this was my mother's sorest trial now.
She had several long conversations with Mr. Walcot,
and these seemed to set her mind at ease about me and
Charlie. She did not tell me all that passed between
them, but she said Mr. Walcot had promised to take
care of us, if letters which she had written should
remain unanswered. Of these letters she spoke mys-
teriously, as if very doubtful of their effect, and she
referred me to Mr. Walcot for advice, should any reply
arrive after she was gone.

One night when I was sleeping soundly, after a day
of unusual comfort and cheerfulness, Mrs. Armstrong's
voice aroused me.

"Come at once," she said; "put this shawl round
you and come. I will fetch Charlie."

Dazzled and bewildered, I rose and flew to the next
room, meeting Mrs. Armstrong at the door with
Charlie, his eyes half open, and his pretty curls all
tumbled and rough. The end was come. Whispered
blessings ; an earnest exhortation to me to " take care
of Charlie;" my father's name; and then the Holy
Name that was the hope of that death-bed ; and after-
wards the hush of an awful stillness.

I cannot dwell on the terrible days that followed,
indeed I remember but little, for my health had broken
down for a time under the pressure of sorrow, and I

362 almbbia's castle.

bartlly knew what pawed around me. At the end of a
fortnight I was better, but I longed to be alone, so I
crept out of the house when Mrs. Armstrong was bnajr,
and out into the garden, where I hid myself among the
trees, and lay on the grass, looking up through the
boughs to the blue sky, and wondering whether my
mother knew how unhappy I felt. This thought
brought the ready tears to my eyes, and I cried
unchecked for a long time. After awhile, I became
aware that Mrs. Armstrong's Toice was calling me;
" Miss Clarissa I Misa Clarissa ! where are you ? you're
wanted!"

As I listlessly rose from the ground, she came round
the screen of boughs and caught sight of me. " Child,
child ] " she continued, " why did you come out here ?
You 11 catch cold lying on the dump grass. You're
shivering now."

" ^'^ °ot cold," I answered ; " indeed it won't hurt
me. What did you want me for P "

I had already put my hand in hers, and now she
stooped down and kissed me. Sorrow had made her so
much more gentle than formerly, that I was no longer

rai ot her. SIiq hiid grown much older in appear-
• >er liair was almost white ; any one could see

ow dofplyahe had suffered, and our common grief had
o* tiler very closely.

THE GREAT SORROW. 253

**Ah! yes, you must come in now," she replied.
"There is some one come for you and Charlie. You
are to go away at once to a new home."

I scarcely heeded her words, but went with her
across the garden. As we approached our own house,
I fancied I saw, through the open window, a stranger
fondling Charlie; but when we entered the little
parlour, (which I never did now without a shudder,
though the sofa was put back against the wall, and
every thing as much changed in appearance as pos-
sible,) I found Charlie standing alone near the table,
and a respectable-looking elderly woman seated at
some distance from him. The woman rose as we
entered, and Mrs. Armstrong said, "This is Miss
Clarissa."

I looked up, and met the glance of a pair of bright
black eyes set in a dark and wrinkled face, surmounted
with bands of snow-white hair. It was a strange
countenance, and did not seem to express any kindliness
towards me. " She is not the least like her papa," the
stranger said, in a harsh voice ; " the boy is the very
image of him ;" and she turned upon Charlie a look
of interest and affection that quite transformed her
unprepossessing features.

"She is like her mother," Mrs. Armstrong said
warmly ; " very like her in person, and I shall pray to

254 almerta's castle.

God every day that she may become like her in good-
ness, and patience, and holiness."

The stranger looked as if the subject did not interest
her, and resumed her seat.

" T suppose," she presently remarked, " we had better
settle at once what is to be done. Can the children be
ready to go with me to-morrow P"

"Yes, as early as you like," was Mrs. Armstrong's
reply.

" Then tell me, if you please, how to find my way to
the clergyman's house," continued the stranger, " and I
will relieve you of my presence for the present. I
have spoken to your landlady, and she will give me a
room here for the night."

"Very well, Mrs. Jenkins," said Mrs. Armstrong.
" We have had our early dinner, but you can join us,
if it please you, at our tea at six o'clock." She then
pointed out the way to the Rectory, and the stranger
walked gravely away. The conversation had roused my
curiosity a little, and I asked Mrs. Armstrong what it
meant.

" It means this, my dear," she replied, " that I must
go and pack up your clothes at once."

*' But who is that woman, and where are we going P"
I asked, with increasing interest.

" That woman is Mrs. Margaret Jenkins, own maid

THE GREAT SORROW. 255

to Miss Bletworth, a friend of your papa's, Miss Clarissa,
and she is going to take you to Daleford, to live with
her mistress."

" But you will go with us P" I cried, in alarm.

" 'No, dear, I shall not go with you," she answered,
somewhat drily ; " I should not suit the place at all.
I'm going to a poor sister of mine that has a hard
struggle with her large family. She'll be glad to have
me, and my duty's very plain to me now my darling is
gone.

There were tears in her eyes now, but she soon
wiped them away, as she added, " She was no kith or
kin to me, but my child could hardly have been dearer,
and I would have slaved for her little ones as long as
my strength lasted ; but there ! they don't need it, and
I must care for those of my own blood. I'm but a cross
old woman, I know, and I've often been sharp with
you. Miss Clarissa, but you mustn't forget me; and
you'll talk to Charlie a,bout me now and then, won't
you, dear?"

I readily promised to do so, embracing Mrs. Arm-
strong with a degree of affection I had never shown
or felt before. There was a great deal of business
done before the return of Mrs. Jenkins, who came
at tea-time, accompanied by Mr. Walcot. The old
man called me into the garden and talked to me

2o8 almeria's castle.

eagerness to begin his journey, and I think this circum-
stance gave a special tenderness to the old woman's
parting embrace to myself. To me, this farewell was
the severing of another link with the past, and Mrs.
Jenkins's treatment gave no encouraging promise of
the future that was before us, so it was with a heavy
heart that I saw the old familiar figure fade away, as
we drove along the dusty road that was to take us to
the nearest station, two miles from Shrimpton. The
journey was exciting even to me, for I had never been
on a railroad before, as we had travelled from South-
ampton to Shrimpton by an omnibus-coach on our first
arrival in England. Charlie was wild and restless, but
he seemed unable to weary Mrs. Jenkins's goodwill,
while she treated me with supreme indifierence.

CHAPTER XIII.

MYSTERIES.

, PTEIt a journey of three or four hours, our
conductress informed us that we were to
CSi^ leave the train at the next station. It was
all alike to Charlie, but I, being still weak,
was growing very weary, and I rejoiced that my suspense
would soon be over, and that I should see to what sort
of home we were now to be consigned. The next tim^
the train stopped, a servant assisted us to alight, and
went to get our luggage, while Mrs. Jenkins led us to
an open carriage that was drawn up close to the station.
The old coachman, who seemed to have been dozing on
the box, greeted Mrs. Jenkins, and then, as he looked
at my brother, exclaimed,

" Well, to be sure ! no need to ask kia name ! Why,

he's the very moral of Master Charlie, isn't he ? Well,

I never ! Welcome, Master Grantham," he continued ;

8 2

260 almeria's castle.

" I knowed your papa. And is that Miss Grantham ?
Ah ! I see, I see . . . why it's as wonderful as t'other
. . . the very pictur'."

I thought Mrs. Jenkins made him a sign to be silent ;
and then, saying that the servant could follow in the
cart with tlie luggage, she proposed that we should
at once go home: so the coachman gathered up his
reins, touched the horses with his whip, and we were
once more moving. It was a pleasant change from
the railway- carriage, and I looked around me, as we
swept along over the smooth road. We were in a very
pretty country, with hills of some height clothed in fir,
rising beyond meadows and wooded parks. At length
we passed through a village lying under the hills, its
cottages scattered among flowery gardens, and its green
shaded with fine horse-chestnut trees. The children
were just trooping into the school-house near the little
church, and I saw the white dress of a lady fluttering
down the path that led to the school from the rectory
on the hill-side. The whole scene reminded me of
Mrs. Collier's tales of her English life, and I could not
help wishing our new home might be here, but I asked
no questions, and the carriage still rolled onward, till
the village was left behind. The same fir-clad hills
were in the background, and below them an undula-
ting and smiling landscape, with a little river winding

MYSTERIES. 261

through the lowest meadows, its course marked by a
double line of willows. We turned from the high-road
into an elm-bordered lane, and soon reached a gate that
gave entrance into a park, and was now opened for us
by a woman who came out of a lodge buried to the very
tbatch in roses and honeysuckle. The woman nodded
to Mrs. Jenkins, looked at us, and held up her hands
with a gesture of astonishment, as she ciied after us,
" Well, in all my days, I never see such a likeness !
He's the young master over again !"

My attention was roused by the words. Did they
refer to my father ? If so, we must be near our des-
tination ; and who was this Miss Bletworth of whom we
had been told so little ? Why were we going to her ?
These thoughts passed through my mind, as we drove
on through the sunny glades of a noble park, catching
glimpses of wooded dells where the deer were couching
among the fern, and upland heights clothed in rich
pasturage. The road swept round the base of a hill,
and brought us to the shore of a lake, where we disturbed
a pair of swans with a whole family of cygnets from the
rushes on the brink, and sent them sailing over the blue
water. Charlie clapped his hands with glee, as he
caught sight of this fairy fleet ; and when his excite-
ment subsided, we were slowly ascending a hill crowned
by a castellated house of great size. The vast front of

262 almeria's castle.

this building was of time-stained brick, partially hidden
by ivy, and in the centre stood a high tower, before
which we stopped, opposite to a large doorway. Was
this our new home, — this house, like a palace, overlook-
ing its own broad lands P What had we to do there,
Charlie and I, little motherless strangers from over the
sea, with a father wandering among savages thousands
of miles away P

Some such thoughts as these flashed through my
mind as I glanced at the glorious view from the terrace
in front of the house, and entered for the first time the
great iron-clamped door. Crossing a lesser chamber,
which formed the base of the tower, we passed under a
second arch into a magnificent hall, with lofty roof and
pointed windows, and a music-gallery at the further
end, nearly two hundred feet distant. Charlie endea-
voured to communicate to Mrs. Jenkins his belief that
we had entered a church, but she could not understand
his language, so she merely pointed out to his notice
the glass drops of the great chandeliers, now shining
in the sun with pretty prismatic colours, and still
led us forward. We had as yet seen no one since
we entered, but as we advanced into the hall, there
came forward from the opposite end a black man, gaily
dressed in loose robes of scarlet and blue, and wearing
on his head a turban of white muslin. He showed

MYSTERIES. 263

all his teeth in a grin of welcome as he drew near,
his soft red slippers making no sound on the marble
floor.

"Where is your mistress, KubbaP" asked Mrs. Jen-
kins of this odd figure.

" There," he answered, pointing to a door whence he
had come just before. " Mistress say, come and bring
piccaninny master, and piccaninny miss;" and again
he grinned from ear to ear. Charlie looked a little
alarmed, but he swallowed down his feelings and fol-
lowed Kubba, holding fast by Mrs. Jenkins's hand, and
glancing backwards now and then, to see that I was
near. The black man threw wide the door, and we
entered a large room, with a bay-window opening on a
garden. At first I thought this room had been unoccupied,
but presently there rose from the depths of an arm-
chair and came towards us, the smallest woman I have
ever seen. A pair of keen dark eyes shone out beneath
thick eyebrows, as white as snow, and short curls of
white hair peeped from beneath her peculiar head-gear.
Her whole dress was black, and her countenance almost
stern, as she came forward with eager gestures ; but
when her glance fell on Charlie, her lips relaxed into a
smile, and holding out two small white hands covered
with rings, she threw herself on her knees, on the floor,
exclaiming in a sweet, though agitated voice, " Your

264 almeria's castle.

name must be Charlie, little boy ! Surely your name
is Charlie Grantham ! "

"Tarlie," repeated the little boy; "Tarlie Gran-
tham!" and moved by some playful impulse, he
clasped his arms roimd the strange lady's neck, and
laid his cheek on hers. In a moment her arms were
round him; she pressed him to her heart, cover-
ing his face with her kisses, while tears poured down
her own cheeks, and she seemed unable to speak
from violent emotion. Charlie grew impatient of her
fondness, and struggled to free himself from her
caresses, so she presently released him, and rose once
more to her feet.

"By the way, is there not a girl, too?" she asked,
turning to Mrs. Jenkins, behind whose skirts I was
almost hidden.

" Oh yes, ma'am, here she is. Come forward, Miss
Clarissa, and speak to Miss Bletworth," and Mrs. Jen-
kins gave me a gentle push as she spoke. Very differ-
ent was the look Miss Bletworth bestowed on me from
the tender glance with which she had greeted Charlie,
and I stood cowering and shy, wishing the floor would
open, and swallow me up out of sight. It seemed as if
the pale wrinkled face reddened with displeasure, and
Mrs. Jenkins seized the opportunity to say, " I thought
you'd see it, ma'am. It's as strong a likeness as the

MYSTERIES. 265

other. Who could ever think they were brother and
sister P"

There was unmistakeable anger in the face now, but
it was not directed towards me.

" You forget yourself, Jenkins,*' Miss Bletworth ob-
served, in a cold tone^ that made the hearer wince.
"You forget you are speaking of Miss Grantham. I
beg that you will be guilty of no such forgetfulness for
the future. You can go now and see that all the
arrangements are complete in the bedrooms."

Jenkins departed without a word of reply, and Miss
Bletworth again turned to me, and with some appear-
ance of effort took my hand, and drew me down beside
her on a sofa.

" Are you tired," she said, " or do you always look so
white P Have you been ill lately ?"

I tried to answer with composure, but my voice broke
down into sobs in spite of me, and Charlie, who had
been admiring the ornaments scattered about the room,
came running to ask if I was naughty, and to kiss me,
and bid me stop crying. Just at the same moment, re-
freshments were brought in, and after I had taken some
food, I was better able to sustain my part, and reply to
Miss Bletworth's questions. This was the easier to me,
because she asked little of my life in England, but
seemed eager to know all I could remember of the old

266 ai.mbria's castle.

days in India. I had to describe the old bam-like house
at Colaba, and our later and better home at Malabar
nill ; and to tell all I knew of my father's present jour-
ney into Thibet. No detail in which he was concerned
seemed too trivial to interest this stranger. She looked
tenderly, from time to time, at Charlie, who had dropped
asleep on the floor ; otherwise, she remained quite still,
with clasped hands, urging me to tell her more and yet
more of the days that were past.

The musical-clock on the chimney-piece had just
chimed seven, when Kubba came into the room to tell
Miss Bletworth that dinner was served. The noise of
the door awakened Charlie, who came towards us, blink-
ing and wondering where he was, and glad, among
all these strange surroundings, to see my familiar form.

"I had forgotten the time," said Miss Bletworth,
rising ; " would you like any more dinner, Clarissa, or
shall I take you to your room, and show you Charlie's
nursery?"

" I am very tired, thank you," I said ; " I should like
to go to bed, if I might."

" Follow me, then," she continued, taking Charlie's
hand and moving towards the door, while I rose to obey ;
but as I crossed the room, walls, and floor, and ceiling,
all seemed to waver and tremble, and I cried out that I
was falling. I was aware that Kubba caup:ht me and

MYSTEKIES. 267

laid me on a couch, and then, through a noise like that
of rushing neater, I heard Miss Bletworth's voice de-
siring Kubba to call the nurse. In a dreamy state, and
still with the same rushing sound in my head, I heard
footsteps about me, and felt my forehead bathed with
something pleasant and cool ; then I was lifted by a pair
of strong arms, and a hearty voice said, "Poor little
thing! she's been overdone with her journey. I'll
undress her and put her to bed, ma'am, and perhaps
she'll be all well in the morning."

I just knew that kind hands undressed me and laid
me in a soft bed, and after that I knew no more for
several days, for I was not well the next morning, as
the nurse had hoped, but very seriously ill. I had
travelled too soon after my late trouble and weakness,
and the fatigue had nearly cost me my life. For a long
time I existed from day to day with only a confused
notion that Charlie was safe and happy, and that I
might lie still and rest ; but at length I again began to
awake to fuller life, and to notice what was going on
aroimd me. One evening I opened my eyes and looked
curiously out. I found myself in a bed with white
curtains, one of which was drawn to shade my eyes from
the light. I put out my hand and held it back, and
then I saw a woman whom I knew to be nurse, the
same who had tended me in my recent illness, sitting

268 almebia's castle.

near the window, looking out at the sunset. The window
was arched, and in the centre of it was a richly- tinted
coat-of-arms. The brightness dazzled me, and I dropped
the curtain again, but not before I had noticed that the
sloping rays of light passing through the tinted glass
flung stains of gay colour on my coverlet. It was very
pretty, but it seemed to me as if I had seen the same
thing before somewhere, — perhaps in a dream. This
little effort of thought tired me, and I fell asleep again ;
but after this time the mists gradually cleared from my
mind, and my strength returned slowly, but surely.
Charlie came often to see me, bright and cheerful, and
talking much of Miss Bletworth, who had taught him
to call her " Aunty." He had forgotten why he wore
his black frock, and my attempts to remind him of my
mother, or of poor Mrs. Armstrong, were usually inter-
rupted by his playfulness. I was vexed at this, and
said aloud one day as he ran out of the room, " Oh,
Charlie, Charlie, how can you forget so soon ! " Nurse,
who was sitting in her usual place by the window,
heard what I said, and saw me turn my face to the
wall, so she laid down her work and came near. She
was a kind, good woman, and I felt she was more my
friend than any body in the house.

"Don't you be downhearted about, him. Miss Cla-
rissa," she said, sitting down on the bed, and kindly

MYSTERIES. 269

taking my hand. " He's too young to go on grieving.
You mustn't mind his forgetting. Miss Bletworth makes
a great pet of him, and it's very natural he should be
merry and thoughtless, for he's but a baby after all."

" Yes, I know all that, nurse," I answered, sighing,
" but I've nobody to speak to about mamma."

" Poor little dear ! " she said, stooping down to kiss
me ; " if you wouldn't mind talking to me, it might ease
your heart ;" so she led me on to speak on the subject
most often in my thoughts, and the relief was great in-
deed. I seldom saw Miss Bletworth, and when she did
visit me, her manner, though kinder than at first, was
constrained, and made me nervous and awkward. She
brought me books and fruit, and always offered to get
me any thing I might want ; yet I could not overcome
my awe of her presence, and was always thankful when
she left the room.

It was early autumn when I left my bed and was
laid on a couch by the window, whence I could look
down on the blue lake, and watch the swans sailing
from bank to bank. Beyond the lake were the grassy
slopes of the park, over which many a time I saw Miss
Bletworth tread, with Charlie bounding like an active
sprite at her side. By and by, on simny days, I was
taken out of doors, Miss Bletworth herself driving me
in a low pony-chaise. The doctors, however, dreaded

270 almerta's castle.

the winter for me, and after October set in with cold
winds, I was kept entirely in the house : not, however,
in my own room, though as yet I liked best to be there.
I could go into the room where we had been received
on our arrival, or into the great hall ; though for some
time the dread of meeting Kubba made me careful not
to go to the latter place alone. I could not always
understand the African's speech, and I was afraid he
might be offended with me.

By degrees, as time wore on, my position improved.
Miss Bletworth seemed to have overcome the repug-
nance she had shown for me at first, and endeavoured
to encourage and make me happy. I have often
thought the nurse must have assisted in producing this
change, in which she rejoiced as much as I did. I was
questioned now not only of our life in India, but of
those later days at Shrimpton, and I sometimes saw my
answers produce much agitation in my hearer. All
this time there was no news of my father. I wrote,
to him to the care of his employers at Bombay, but the
months rolled on, and no answer came.

One day I was sitting beside Miss Bletworth, busy
with some pretty fancy-work she had given me, and
talking with her, as usual, of my past life, and espe-
cially of Charlie's birth, and my joy at hearing of it.

" Bear Charlie ! " she said, glancing fondly at him

MYSTERIES. 271

as he played with his bricks on the floor ; " of course
he was called Charlie after your father P "

"Papa's name is Charles Ernest Grantham/' I re-
plied, "but I never heard any one call him Charlie.
My dear mamma always called him Ernest. Charlie is
called Charles Godfrey, because Mr. Collier was named
Godfrey." After a pause, Miss Bletworth continued :

" Why did they call you Clarissa ? "

" I haye heard papa say it was an old family name
among the Granthams," I answered; "but I have
another name too, as well as Charlie. I am called
Clarissa Almeria."

" Almeria !" she repeated, " why were you called by
such an outlandish name P "

" I never knew," I replied, remembering how often
my father had evaded the question. "I often asked
papa, because he used to tell me a story when I was a
very little giri about a fairy named Almeria, living in
a fine castle ; and I asked him if I was named after
her; but he always said, *That is not in the story.
Clary.'" I paused, for Miss Bletworth had risen and
gone to the window, where the string of the blind
seemed to give her occupation for some time. At
length she returned to her seat beside me, and con-
tinued : " What were we talking about P Oh ! the
story of the fairy Almeria. Tell me all about it,

272 ALMERIA*S CASTLE

Clarissa." I told it to her, interrupted several times
by her rising to settle the blind again. At the close,
after a short silence, she said abruptly,

"Do you know my name, Clarissa ?'*

No, I had only heard her called Miss Bletworth.
She again went to the window : returning thence, she
stood before me with her bapk to the light, her small
figure erect, her finger raised, her eyes fixed keenly
on mine.

" My name is Almeria," she said ; and then suddenly
turned away and left the room. I thought she looked
very like a fairy herself, as she flitted through the great
door ; but I did not guess the whole truth till lat^r.

The doctors had forbidden lessons for me for some
months to come, so my time was very much at my own
disposal, and sometimes, I confess, it hung somewhat
heavily on my hands, especially during the long hours
which Miss Bletworth and her constant companion,
Charlie, spent in the open air, even after the winter
had set in. I had learnt my way to a long gallery on
the southern side of the house, and here I took daily
exercise. It was the place I liked best for the purpose,
because there were a great many pictures on the walls,
and these amused me more than the wintry aspect of
the landscape outside. I still knew so little of Miss
Bletworth and her history, that I could not conjecture

MYSTERIES. 273

what was her connexion with the stiflf old faded por-
traits that hung here and there among pictures of
brighter colouring and gayer subject. One day she
found me standing before the representation of a lady
in the costume of a shepherdess, with a crook in one
hand, and the other laid on the head of a lamb. I had
not heard her come in, and started violently as she
touched me.

" I startled you, child," she said ; " what was it that
absorbed you so completely ? Ah ! were you wondering
whether that mild giantess was an ancestress of mine ?
No, Clarissa, I had no ancestry. I suppose I had some
grandfathers, but I never heard of them. My father
was a poor weaver when I was a child like you, but he
made some happy invention -that was a great success,
and we all became rich people. My poor homely
mother never learnt to look happy in her fine clothes,
and was for ever in danger of calling her smart house-
keeper 'Ma'am.' However, she did not live to enjoy
her grandeur long, poor soul ! and it was I who made
my father buy this fine place. The late owners could
tell you the history of their family from the twelfth
century, but nevertheless, they were ruined by their
own extravagance, and glad to sell my father every
thing, even their family pictures. Frightful things
they are, but I have never liked to take them

T

274 almeria's castle.

down. They almost seem to have a better right here
than I."

She walked away as she spoke; indeed, she had
rather been thinking aloud than talking to me, and she
probably, before she finished, had forgotten I was near.
I continued for awhile on the same spot, wondering
again, as I had often wondered before, what was the
connexion between this strange old lady and our-
selyes.

As the sweet spring days came on, I was allowed
once more to breathe the open air, and for the first
time thoroughly to enjoy the beauty of that happy
season, as the fine old woods came into leaf and the
primroses opened their unnumbered blossoms. At
Shrimpton there had been but a few stunted shrubs
and scanty patches of fir ; here was untold wealth of
beauty. The singing of the larks above the green corn-
fields, the piping of blackbird and thrush on the lawns,
and the notes of the cuckoo in every grove, brought me
much delight, though sometimes mixed with a vain
yearning for the dear face I should see no more.
Charlie was gay as all the other young things, and
grew robust and sturdy, with bright curls waving round
his bonny sun-burnt face. I was now often the com-
panion of his rambles with Miss Bletworth, who treated
me with increasing kindness, so that I was far happier

MYSTERIES. 275

than at first. Witli her we went to the pretty little
church at Daleford, so different from the ugly structures
I had seen in India, with its Norman arches and stained
windows, and the ivy that grew to the very top of its
tower. Sometimes we went long drives among the hills,
Miss Bletworth guiding her spirited horses well and
fearlessly. Meantime, she bade me prepare to resume
my lessons, as she was seeking a governess for me ; and
I read as much as I could, at stray times, that I mighf
not seem very ignorant whenever this alarming new-
comer should appear.

Sometimes, when Miss Bletworth was occupied with
the guests who occasionally stayed at the house, Charlie
and I walked out with nurse. On these occasions we
usually went into the village, which would have been
agreeable enough but for one reason. In a cottage
standing in a weed-grown garden on one side of the
street, lived an old woman known by the name of '' Mad
Betty,*' a squalid, miserable-looking creature, who was
almost always at her door, if not at the gate of her
domain, nodding and grinning at the passers-by. I
was very much alarmed at sight of this unhappy being,
and on one occasion, to my dismay, nurse suddenly left
me with Charlie close to mad Betty's cottage, while she
herself went to speak to a friend who lived near. Betty
soon perceived us, and came from her door to the gate

T 2

276 almeria's castle.

with a dancing step, nodding and smiling, and making
signs to US with her hands.

** Ah I " she cried, as she paused and leant her
shrivelled arms on the gate-post, ''I declare it's the
fine young lady and gentleman from Yeldham ! And
how's the grand lady at Yeldham, the proud pie in
peacock's feathers? Hasn't she got tired of her new
toys yet P Take care, my fine young lady and gentle-
man! Don't offend the grand lady, or she'll be for
turning you out-of-doors, as she turned your father out,
years and years ago ! " and Betty threw her head back,
and laughed a long and discordant laugh that filled me
with terror. Happily nurse returned at the moment,
and I dragged Charlie towards her. He was rather
amused than alarmed, and wanted to remain. " What
does she say, nurse P" he asked. "Don't go away;
she's a funny old woman."

But I urged nurse on, and she took us homewards.

"What did mad Betty say to you. Miss Clarissa P"
she inquired, when we were out of hearing.

I did not like to tell her. I had always felt it would
not be right to ask either nurse or Jenkins about any
of the things I yet longed to know, and now I did not
like to repeat the old woman's words about my father,
glad as I should have been to know their meaning ; so
nurse was obliged to be satisfied with Charlie's assurance

MYSTERIES. 277

that "the funny old Betty had called Clary a pea-
cock/'

A little while after this occurrence, I was one day
alone in the library, where I had free access to a certain
number of shelves, and, groping for some books that
had fallen behind the rest, I drew forth a volume that
attracted me by its title, for it was the narrative of the
" Travels of Rolando," which had furnished my father
with many of the stories he used to tell me on the rocks
at Colaba, and in the garden on Malabar Hill. I care-
fully wiped away the dust, took a cushion into a shady
nook by the window, and prepared myself for an hour's
enjoyment. To my amazement, when I raised the
cover of the book, the following inscription met my
eye, "Charlie E. Grantham, from his loving sister,
Almeria," and a date of nearly thirty years ago.
Rolando may have seen wonders, but he could never
have been more astonished than I was at this time.
What could it mean? How could this white-haired
lady, who seemed to me so very, very old, be the sister
of my father, whose age I knew to be thirty-five?
Then the name was diflferent, and she had never spoken
to me of the fact at all, never mentioned her relation-
ship with my father in any way. The hour I had in-
tended to spend in reading, was passed in vain con-
jectures, and then I took the precious book to my room

278 almeria's castle.

and laid it among my treasureB, hoping that time would
aolve the mystery for me.

That evening Miss Bletworth had a dinner-party, and
Charlie and I were dressed in our best black frocks, and
taken down to see the guests when they arrived. The
curiosity I had been feeling all day was further stimu-
lated by a remark I overheard one gentleman make to
his wife, when she mentioned our name :

" Well ! " he said, " Charlie Grantham's children, are
they P I never expected to see them here."

At night I felt restless and disinclined for sleep, so I
begged nurse to leave the blinds open, that I might see
the moonlight. As I watched the soft reds and purples
of the stained glass creep along the wall till they fell
on my bed, I felt as if I were living over again some
old, long-past hours. I seemed to know what would
happen next ; and I felt no surprise, when, after I had
lain pondering for hours on the day's puzzles, and the
carriages of Miss Bletworth's guests had rolled away
down the hill, the door of my room was softly opened,
and a small figure glided to the bedside, and arranged
my bedclothes with its small white hands. I saw all
with half-shut eyes, not caring to move or speak ; and
before the door was again closed, I heard a deep sigh.
I lay listening, and presently a full sound of music rose
pealing through the house. I knew it must come from

MYSTERIES. 279

the organ in the music-galleiy above the hall, and a
great longing came over me to go and see who was
playing. In a moment I was up, had thrown a shawl
about me, and was stealing, with bare feet, to a passage
whence I could see into the hall. Long bars of moon-
light lay across the marble floor, with deep shadows
between; the gallery was lighted by two lamps near
the organ, where stood the same little figure I had
lately seen at my bedside. The small white hands
were pressing out glorious sounds that went echoing up
into the arched roof, and stirred my heart with feelings
I could hardly control. I went back to my room and
sat down on the bed. That music had told me strange
things. Here was the fairy Almeria herself; here was
the room whence the boy she loved had stolen forth to
listen to the organ, and that boy was my own father.
All this was plain enough now. I understood that
there had been some great quarrel between this lady
and my father, but I dared ask no questions; and
meantime, no news came to me from the East, no letter
from either my father or Mrs. Collier, and my heart
grew heavy as I wondered whether I should ever see
either of them again.

- Miss Bletworth kept her word. One day I heard
her voice calling me on the stairs, and when I ran to
ask what she wanted, she said,

280 almeria's castlk.

" Come with me to the drawing-room. Tour gover-
ness has arrived.*'

I followed, trembling and shy, hardly daring to lift
my eyes from the ground when I came into the presence
of the dreaded stranger; but when I did look up to
reply to her greeting, I beheld nothing very terrible.
My governess was a young lady with a sweet fair face,
and a cheerful, pleasant voice. We were friends at
once, and Miss Bletworth looked pleased. She took us to
the room that was to be our study, and laying her hand
on the young lady's arm before leaving us together,
she said, "I thought one old woman was enough in
a house, so I chose you, my dear, to be a companion
to this child. She wants cheering, for she has not been
so happy here as she might have been ; but all will be
well now you are come."

My new friend, who told me her name was Minna
Douglas, spoke warmly of many kindnesses received by
her family from Miss Bletworth, and seemed pleased
to live under that lady's roof. She was a clever and
accomplished girl, and we were happy together in our
busy mornings in the study, and in our afternoon
rambles. I could talk to her of those I loved, and she
in return told me of her home, and her brothers and
sisters, and all the home-circle she was to meet at
Christmas. She shared my admiration for Charlie,

MYSTERIES. 281

&nd was as ready to spoil him as Miss Bletworth
herself. I blessed the day she had come to Yeldham.

One of our amusements in the Autumn was sketching
from nature, in which Miss Douglas excelled, and her
enthusiasm infected me. We went one afternoon in
September to Daleford, to make a drawing of the pretty
Norman church. My attempt was soon finished, but
Miss Douglas's elaborate sketch required more time, so
while I waited for her, I strolled about the churchyard
and read the inscriptions on the grave-stones. In doing
so, I wandered on to a corner I had never before
visited, where, sheltered by an old oak, there lay a
grave with a cross engraved on its flat surface, and an
inscription round it in old English letters. I paused
to decipher these, and found, to my surprise, a name
that was familiar, "Everard Clay," with a date, and
then the words, ** Blessed are the dead that die in the
Lord." How it brought back to me the old days,
when I was a little child ! I ran full of excitement,
to tell Miss Douglas of my discovery, and she was
very sympathizing. She laid aside her drawing, and
came with me to sit in the shadow of the old oak,
encouraging me to recall my recollections of the past.
I wondered I had not felt before that this Daleford
must be the village where my dear friend had dwelt.
There was the rectory on the hill- side, where she had

282 almeria's castle.

lived happily with her brother ; there was the school
where she had daily taught her little scholars. I could
not remember that she had mentioned the name of the
village ; but Yeldham, surely Yeldham had not seemed
a strange name to me when I first heard it from Mrs.
Jenkins? I remembered now. It was at Yeldham
that the great party had taken place, the New Year's
party Mrs. Collier had described to me ; and the person
who played the solemn music as the Old Year went
down the hall, must have been Miss Bletworth. The
excitement of this new discovery was succeeded by a
reaction very hard to bear, but my bright companion
suggested all sorts of cheering thoughts. She was sure
I should soon hear again from my father ; of course he
could not write from Thibet. Did I suppose that there
were post-offices in the Thibetian villages ? He would
return successful from his mission, and I should soon
get a letter ; she had not a doubt on the subject. As
to Mrs. Collier, she was on her voyage either to India
or, who could tell ? to England, perhaps. How could
she write if she were on the sea ? But I should soon
know all about it, she was quite sure. With words
like these, Miss Douglas tried to restore my spirits ;
and when she had partially succeeded, she changed the
subject to one she knew I liked, and we talked of her
home, till I grew interested, and asked questions about

MYSTERIES. 283

her brolKers and sisters, as usual. She too had a
younger brother, Charlie.

"Do you know, Clarissa," she said, "I pay for
Charlie's schooling myself, out of the salary Miss
Bletworth gives me. I am more proud of that than of
any thing in the world ! My father would not have
accepted such a favour unless I had done something
for it; for, you know, we have no right to any help
from Miss Bletworth ; so this plan of my being your
governess is the most delightful one that ever was
thought of."

" How did you know Miss Bletworth ?" I asked.

"Oh! it's a very old story," she replied. "My
grandfather was a clerk to old Mr. Bletworth for a
great many years, and that made a sort of tie which
Miss Bletworth has always been the first to recognize.
When the business was sold, and the family came to
Yeldham, Mr. Bletworth gave my grandfather a
pension, which has been continued to my father to
this day, but we are a large family, and we must
work. I have often heard my father talk of Yeldham.
He used to come when he was a boy, before the first
Mrs. Bletworth died. She was very fond of him, but
she died soon after they moved hither, and he never
saw the second Mrs. Bletworth."

"Was there a second Mrs. Bletworth ?" I asked.

284 almeria's castle.

"Oh yes," she replied carelessly. "Mr. Bletworth
married when he was quite old, and his new wife
was a young widow, named Grantham, with one little
boy."

" Grantham ! " I repeated, a new light breaking upon
me at the words I had just heard.

" Oh ! I ought not to have said any thing about it, I
daresay," exclaimed Miss Douglas, growing very red.
" I was not thinking, Clary. Don't ask me any ques-
tions, for I don't know whether I ought to answer
them. How could I be so foolish ! "

So I was obliged to be content with my guesses,
which were tolerably correct; and little by little, I
scarcely know how, the rest of the story became known
to me : how the young Mrs. Bletworth had died very
soon after her marriage, and Mr. Bletworth had not
survived her long, but left his daughter in possession of
Yeldham, and the large fortune the old weaver had ac-
cumulated. Then, how the young Mrs. Bletworth's son,
Charlie Grantham, had been adopted as a brother by
Miss Bletworth, and all through his childhood and
early youth had been the joy of her heart ; till by
some assertion of independence, he had mortally offended
her, and gone away no one knew whither. I fancied
the cause of quarrel must have been in some way
connected with my mother, but how one so unalterably

MYSTERIES. 285

gentle and good, could, ever so remotely, have been a
source of strife, I could not conjecture.

We usually spent our evenings at this time in the
drawing-room ; when Miss Bletworth was alone, and
after Charlie was gone to bed. Miss Douglas used to be
made to sing, which she did very sweetly; and then
Miss Bletworth would often play to us on a smaller
organ which was in this room. In the evening of the
day of which I have been speaking, Miss Bletworth was
unusually gracious to me, but I could not summon
courage to speak to her, till, in a pause of her beautiful'
music. Miss Douglas said,

" Clarissa has not told you of an interesting discovery
she made to-day."

"A discovery!" Miss Bletworth repeated sharply,
as she turned her bright eyes on me. " What discovery
do you fancy you have made, child ?"

"It was about Miss Clay, Mrs. Collier I mean," I
answered, trembling. " I found out she used to live at
Daleford. I saw where her brother was buried in the
churchyard."

" Miss Clay ? What, Anne GIslj ? Was the Mrs.
Collier you talk about, our Anne Clay, whose brother
was Rector of Daleford ?"

I took courage now, and told my story, to which
she listened with interest

2SG AUfEKIA'fl CASTLE.

''Only think of tout knowing her!" she said, when
I paiis2<L " I liked Anne Clay ; she was a good, simple,
clever girL And she knew your parents, yon say,
aarissa?"

** Oh yes,'' I said ; " papa had been at college with
her brother, and that made her kind to us at first ; but
afterwards . . . . " and I paused in some fear.

" Afterwards what, child P Why don't you go on ?*'

" Afterwards, she was kind because she loved mamma
so dearly. She made me promise always to be good to
mamma and never to vex her; and she said mamma
was better and wiser than any body she had ever known,
and that I never, never could know any body so good
as my own mamma. She said I must help her all I
could, and never grieve her ; and oh ! I did try, indeed
I did!"

I hid ray face in my hands, and sobbed for some
moments quite uncontrollably : then I felt the touch of
a hand on my head, and looking up, I saw that I was
alone with Miss Douglas, so I nestled into her arms
and was comforted*

CHAPTER XIV.

NEWS FROM AFAR.

HE latest yellow leaTes were fluttering
down from the autumnal woods, and still
I heard nothing of my father. His latest
letters were now eighteen months old, and
even Miss Douglas's sanguine spirit confessed there was
cause for anxiety, though good reason also for hope.
She tried to keep alive an interest in my pursuits, and
to make me share her love for drawing, showing me
how to colour the sketches I had made during the
summer. I was busied on one of these (a view of
Daleford Church) one afternoon in November, when
some question arose as to the shape of a window or the
position of a buttress, and Miss Douglas proposed that,
the weather being fine, we shoidd put on our warm
cloaks, and at once proceed to the scene itself, and
settle the matter by personal observation. I was strong

288 ALHERIA*S CASTLE.

enough for such expeditions now, even in cold weather,
and we were soon crossing the park with rapid st^ps,
enjoying the sharp air. As we stood still to ohserve
the ohject for whose sake we had come, we heard voices
near us, and presently perceived a lady and gentleman
standing in the remote comer, where, under the old
oak, lay the grave of Everard Clay. While Miss
Douglas made a hasty note in her memorandum-hook,
I idly watched the pair, whose backs were towards me,
and wondered whence they came.

"How very tall that lady is!" I observed to my
companion. " I don't think I ever saw so tall a woman
except one, and that was my dear Mrs. Collier. Where
can those people come from P I'm sure we never saw
them here before."

As I ceased to speak, and as Miss Douglas put up
her memorandum-book, the pair I was watching turned
and moved up the path towards us. The lady's veil
was thrown back, but she held her handkerchief to her
eyes, so that her features were hidden ; but there was
something in the manner of walking, and in the ripples
of the golden hair, that made my heart beat as if it
would suffocate me. I could not take my eyes from
the figure advancing nearer and nearer, though Miss
Douglas touched me, and whispered that we had
better go out of the way. I even pushed her im-

KEWS FROM AFAR. 239

patiently aside and stood still, right in the centre of the
path, so that when the lady took her handkerchief from
her eyes, we met face to face. I knew her at once, and
stretched oat my arms with a loud cry of joy. She
took my hands in hers, and looked at me eagerly. " Is
it you, really?'' she said. "Is this tall girl with rosy
cheeks my little Clary ? Oh child, child ! how glad I
am to see you again !" and then she kissed me fondly
and repeatedly. I laughed and cried by turns, and
could not utter a word. I had found ray first friend
again, my dear Mrs. Collier ; and that great happiness
swallowed up every thought for the time, and was as
much as I could bear.

"And pray. Clary, don't you mean to take any notice
of meP" asked another familiar voice, the sound of
which carried me back to the old days that now seemed
so long, long past. " Surely I may claim to be an old
friend too?"

"Oh yes!" I cried, giving my hand to Mr. Collier,
and at last finding words ; "I am so glad, so very glad,
that I don't know what to do. I wish I could tell vou
how glad I am ! "

"I was coming to you. Clary," said Mrs. Collier, " and
only paused here for a reason you know. I have had
some trouble to find you. We only came to England
last week, and we went to Shrimpton to ask your

290 * almeria's casttle.

address, but your old landlady had forgotten it, and
Mr. Walcot was away. However, we advertised for
Mrs. Armstrong, and she told us where to look for you.
We will walk back to Yeldham with vou, and see Miss
Bletworth and Charlie, and I want to carry off you and
Charlie to stay with me in London for a little while,"

Miss Douglas had considerately slipped away, and
was already far on her road before us, so I walked on
between my newly-found friends in a dreamy state of
bliss, which was only interrupted by the recurrence of
one of my constant anxieties.

"About papa," I said, stopping short, and looking
from one to the other ; " do you know any thing about
papa? I have never heard, all this long time. Do
you know if he is safeP "

They looked at each other, and then Mrs. Collier re-
plied ; " We know he is safe. Clary, and that you will
hear from him very soon, and that is all we can tell you
now. Set your heart at rest, dear. He is quite well.
He will like to tell you himself all that he has done."

" Himself? Is he coming too ?" I cried.

"I hope so, Clary, very soon. But tell me about
yourself. Are you happy at Yeldham ? Are they kind
to you there?"

" Yes, they are kind now," I said. ** I was not
happy at first, but Miss Bletworth does not seem to

NEWS FROM AFAR. 291

dislike me now, and Miss Douglas is, oh ! so good to
me ! '* and I went on to tell all I could think of ahout
myself and Charlie. I told them how lately I had dis-
covered that Daleford was the place that had been Mrs.
Collier's happy home, though the very first sight of the
village had reminded me of her, and I now laughed
merrily at my stupidity in not having recognized
it immediately.

" Have you made any other discoveries at YeldhamP'*
inquired Mrs. Collier.

" Oh yes, many— a great many ; but I want to know
more, if I may. I found out about papa a long time
ago, and I think," I added, hesitating, " I think I know
why Miss Bletworth did not like me at first. It was
because of my likeness to my dear mamma."

" You have never forgotten the promise you made me
at Alexandria, Clary?" said Mrs. Collier, hastily.

"Oh no, never for a moment," I said, my cheeks
flushing, and tears coming into my eyes. " Nobody has
tried to make me forget, and I told Miss Bletworth
about it a little while ago, when we were talking about

you."

" That is well. Clary," she said, squeezing the hand
she held ; " you will know every thing in good time.
Meanwhile, don't you want to hear about my children ?"

" Do tell me ! pray tell me about them," I cried ; and

V 2

292 almeria's castle.

then she described her two little girls, (who, to my
delight, were called Anne Lucy, and Clarissa,) and her
boy, who was the youngest of the three, and almost the
largest already. In such conyersation the time passed
so quickly, that we arrived only too soon at the house.
We paused on the terrace to look over the park with its
now leafless woods, and the lake, across whose grey
waters a solitary swan was sailing, and then we rang
the bell at the great door. Miss Douglas had given
notice of our approach, and when Kubba ushered us
into the outer hall, we saw, framed in the doorway of
the great hall, the small figure of Miss Bletworth, who
received my friends with a stately grace that would
have befitted the fairy-princess of such a palace.

" Mrs. Collier is as dearly welcome to Yeldham as
Anne Clay ever was of old," she said, extending both
her little hands to grasp Mrs. Collier's, while the latter
bent to receive the proliered kiss of welcome. Mr.
Collier was introduced and greeted with cordiality, and
we all moved towards the drawing-room, preceded by
Kubba grinning with satisfaction. Miss Bletworth in-
sisted on sending to the inn for the luggage, and giving
my friends accommodation at Yeldham. Mrs. Collier
explained that they could only stay till the next morn-
ing, and wished to take Charlie and me back with them
to London, and this was soon settled. We had not

NEWS FEOM AFAK. 293

been long in the drawing-room when Charlie made his
appearance, and was duly noticed and admired. A
shade rather of sadness than of displeasure came over
Mis9 Bletworth's face, when she saw his ecstasy at the
idea of going to London ; but she only sighed, and made
no remark.

I could hardly believe, when I woke the next morn-
ing, that I was under the same roof with Mrs. Collier,
and that I had not dreamt on the previous night of her
dear face bending once more over my bed. But it was
no dreaip. There was nurse already in my room,
packing my clothes and Charlie's into a large box,
ready for our journey to London.

There was one thought to chasten my joy. There
was one dear face that woi^ld never come back ; but the
recollection of it was without bitterness, solemn and
sweet, rather than gloomy or sad.

Miss Bletworth came to the great door to see us depart,
in spite of the grey fog that made every thing damp
and chilly. I saw her fold Charlie in a long, clinging
embrace, from which he struggled to free himself, and
she let him go, and looked after him with a sad, wistful
smile, that made me feel sorry for her, and emboldened
me to go near and wish her good-bye. She started as
I spoke, turned towards me and took my hand not un-
kindly. " Good-bye, Clarissa,'' she said ; " you are glad

294 ALMKR1A*S CASTLE.

to go too, and no wonder ! An old woman's house is
a dull home for young things, and thej will run away
whenever they can."

" No," I answered steadily, " please don*t say that.
Charlie is a very little boy and he likes a change. He
does not understand about parting. And I knew Mrs.
Collier when I was a little child."

**Yes, I know," interrupted Miss Bletworth, "and
you loved her then, and have loved her ever since.
That is the way with girls and women, Clarissa ; they
don't forget. It is not the way with boys and men.
Don't you see you made a bad defence, and had better
et it alone P"

I feared she was angry, but she drew me nearer to
her, and kissed me for the first time in my life.

" You are a good child, and I am getting to like you,
I believe," she said, " but you needn't mind about
loving me. Love those that have been kind to
you."

She turned away so hastily that I could say no more,
and in a few minutes we were gone. I made Charlie
kiss his hand and wave his handkerchief as long as we
were in sight of the house, but there was no grief in his
farewells, only the maddest mirth, which lasted most
part of the journey. It was only our second experience
of the railroad, and we were naturally excited by the

NEWS FROM AFAR. 295

Bpeed, and half sorry when we stopped at Waterloo
station.

We were to pass a week in London, the day of our
return to Yeldham having been named by Miss Blet-
worth. I passed my mornings with Mrs. Collier, and
had time to put to her many of the questions I had
longed to ask. She told me my father's marriage had
offended Miss Bletworth, because she had wished him
to make a different choice, and because my mother was
a portionless orphan; and she repeated all the loving
praise she had formerly bestowed on my mother. She
said she had written from Bombay to inform Miss Blet-
worth of her meeting us there, but her letters were
never noticed. Nothing seemed to have any effect but
the letters written with my mother's dying hand, and
on receiving those, Miss Bletworth had at once given
us a home.

"She is a generous woman. Clary, and has a great
dread of being unjust ; but her temper i« warm and her
prejudices are strong. I cannot help thinking that, in
her heart, she bitterly regrets the past, and loves your
father dearly still. We shall see what changes time
will bring."

It was good news to me that the Colliers were. to
remain in England for the future, and never to return
to Bombay. The death of an uncle had put Mr. Collier

296 AlJffERTA's CASTLE.

in possession of an estate in Hampshire, and a fortune
that made it unnecessary for him to pursue his pro-
fession, or risk his health further in the climate of
India.

We had several days of sight-seeing, in spite of
the unfavourable time of year, and the short, dark
afternoons. Charlie went with us to the British
Museum,^ to see the stuffed beasts and birds ; but we
usually left him with the little Colliers in the nursery,
where he reigned a king, with good-humoured but
absolute sway. One unusually fine morning was
selected for a trip to Greenwich, to see the hospital,
with its painted hall, and carved chapel, and wards
full of cabins for the old sailors. We were very well
amused for some time, but were just thinking of de-
parture, when my attention was caught by the voice
of an old pensioner who was talking to two youths,
visitors like ourselves. The old man was half hidden
by a pillar of the colonnade through which we were
at the moment passing; but I saw the faces of his
hearers, with gaping mouths and distended eyes, as
they gave eager attention to his tale.

"Never heerd on it, hav'n't ye?'' he said, with some
contempt. "Why, where have you lived, I should like
to know, never to hear of that ? Why, there's not a
critter on the earth, but has its counterpart in the sea.

NEWS FROM AFAR. 297

I dare say you never heard tell of aea-cows ; but I've
seen a plenty of 'em. How should the fish-people get
mUk else P But this horse I was telling ye about, comes
up out of the sea at Labrador, and goes and feeds on
shore, for all the world like a land-horse."

" You don't say so ! It's very wonderful ! " ex-
claimed the listeners ; and at the same moment I went
forward a little, that I might see the speaker. There
was no possibility of mistaking the red face with its one
eye and its puckered mouth, or the silent laugh which
shook the old pensioner's whole frame. It was Tom
Stubbs himself.

"Oh, Tom, Tom, what are you talking about?" I
exclaimed, touching his arm.

He brought his eye to bear upon me at once, and
then cried ; " Why, missy, little missy, sure it's never

you!"

" Yes it is though, Tom," I replied, laughing, as I
shook his hard old hand.

*' Well now, don't it do my eyes, — leastways my eye,
— good to see you again, missy ! I never knew where
you'd gone, or I'd have come to see you once more. I
met Mrs. Armstrong once, and she told me about the
dear lady, and I didn't wonder to hear it, missy. The
likes of her don't stay long out of heaven. But I was
so struck-like, that I clean forgot to ask your address."

298 almeria's castle.

" I am 80 glad you knew me again, Tom," I said.

" La, missy, I warnH likely to forget your little face,
and it has just the same look about it, except for being
fuller and rosier. Sarvant, ma'am," he continued, as
he caught sight of Mrs. Collier. "It seems nateral
and right to see you and missy side by side ; and you
too, Mr. Collier, welcome to Greenwich, sir."

"What were you saying to those men just now,
TomP" I asked. "Fm afraid you were taking them
in shamefully. Oh, fie, Tom ! "

He shook again with his quiet laugh. " I don't say
it's quite right and proper, missy," he replied, "but
them poor landsmen are so ignorant, it's quite a temp-
tation to put off a traveller's tale upon 'em. They'd
believe a'most any thing. They open their mouths so
wide, I can't help giving them a tough morsel to
swallow now and then ; " and again Tom laughed, low
and long. He then told us that, as he had served in
the navy long enough to have a claim for admission
into the hospital, one of his old captains had put him
in the way of getting in. He liked it well enough,
only he had nothing to do, and he had never been used
to an idle life before. He had tried at first to be
"houseman" to one of the officers, but he could not
carry weights up the stairs, and he was obliged to
leave. On the whole, he was pretty well satisfied.

NEWS PBOM AFAR. 299

We parted with many expressions of goodwill from
all parties, and a promise of future meetings, and I
felt all the happier for having seen my old friend once
more.

I found that Mr. and Mrs. Collier had had no direct
communication with my father, but had heard from a
mutual friend at Bombay, of his return thither, and

m

his intention of proceeding to England immediately.
They had sent letters to meet him at Malta, giving
him their London address, and urging him to come
straight to them, as they hoped to be able to give him
news of his children. All this Mrs. Collier told me
cautiously, and I at once perceived the rest of her
plan.

" This is the day for the Marseilles mail to come in,"
I cried, for I was very familiar with all the dates of
arrivals from India.

"Don't be too sanguine, Clary," said Mrs. Collier
kindly; "there may not have been time for him to
wind up his affairs at Bombay, but at least we shall
hear from him, I hope."

I was sure, however, that she did in her heart expect
him, for she started at every unusual sound, and went
very often to the window. In the afternoon she said to
me with a smile, " It is of no use. Clary, for you and
me to go on trying to be hypocrites ! We are both

300 ai«mebia's castle.

in a fidget, and we may as well acknowledge it out-
right. The carriage is coming ; let us go to the bazaar
and get Charlie's new top, and so pass away an anxious
hour or two."

Charlie and little Lucy Collier went with us, and
kept us full two hours, in their delight at the stalls of
toys, and we drove home after dusk had fallen, and the
street-lamps were lighted. I was half longing, half
afraid to reach home, and a glance from Mrs. Collier
told me she shared my feelings.

" A gentleman is .waiting to see you, ma'am, in the
drawing-room," said the butler, as we entered the house.
" He desired me not to give his name."

Mrs. Collier sent Lucy to the nurse and took Charlie's
hand. "Go before us, Clarj^" she said cheerfully.
''Let us go and see this gentleman in the drawing-

room."

I obeyed her mechanically, hearing my heart beat
as I mounted step after step. As I opened the door,
I saw a tall gentleman standing on the rug, paler,
thinner, older by many years than the father I re-
membered ; but the voice that exclaimed, " Clary, my
darling ! " was the same as of old, and I sprang for-
ward, to be caught in my father's arms, and pressed
fondly to his heart. One cannot describe meetings like
these. Our joy was very subdued and quiet, for in

NEWS J-ROM AFAR. 301

every heart but Charlie's was the sense of a loss, the
yearning for

" The touch of a vanished hand
And the sound of a voice that was still."

I need not dwell on the subject of my father's adven-
tures during the interval that had elapsed since his last
letter, for he gave to the world a " Journal of Travels
in Thibet," that was much read and praised, soon after
his arrival in England. Suffice it to say that his
absence would have been of far shorter duration had he
not fallen ill of a bad fever, and been laid up for months
at an obscure village, where the natives treated him
with kindness and nursed him as well as they could.
An European servant, who had been his companion,
died of the same disease. Three times had my father
endeavoured to resume his journey from this place, and
three times had he been obliged to relinquish the
attempt from excessive weakness; but he at length
succeeded in returning, after many wanderings, to
Bombay, having fully succeeded in his object. His suc-
cess was deemed of so much importance to the interests
of his employers, that he was made a partner in the
firm, and sent to manage their affairs in England, his
health requiring an immediate change of climate. But
wealth and ease were almost valueless to him now, since

302 almeria's castle.

he received, at the same moment, the news of my
mother's death.

"I knew you and the hoy were safe in Almeria's
Castle, Clary," he said to me, with a sad smile, "and I
did not seem to care to live any longer."

" But you don't feel like that now, papa ? "

" No, Clary, not now that I have seen your dear little
face again. When will your leave be up P You must
go back to Yeldham on the day named."

"The day after to-morrow, papa. Must we go?"
I said anxiously. " Won't you come with us 2 I know
Miss Bletworth loves you better than any body. Do
come to Yeldham, papa ! "

" No, Clary, I cannot go to Yeldham. I do not say
so in anger, God knows. All enmity, if I had any, is
buried out of sight for ever in that lowly grave at
Shrimpton, beside which I stood this morning. Besides,
has not Miss Bletworth given my children a home, and
treated them like her own kith and kin ? I' am grate-
ful to her, but I cannot go to Yeldham till she invites
me thither. It is simply impossible, so don't look
disappointed, little woman. I will go with you to
Daleford, and as far as the gates of Yeldham, but no
farther."

From such a decision there was no appeal, and the
subject was mentioned no more. On the following day

NEWS FROM AFAR. 303

I went with my father, house- hunting, and, after a
fatiguing expedition, we returned successful, having
found a pretty house in the Bayswater-road, with
windows overlooking Kensington-gardens. It was
well furnished and ready for immediate occupation,
and as we walked back through Hyde-park to the
Colliers' lodgings, in Green-street, we talked over our
future menage f and I rejoiced in the prospect of sharing
a home with my father once more. I was old enough
to appreciate the unselfish kindness with which he con-
sidered my taste and consulted my wishes, instead of
dwelling on the grief that had overshadowed his own
life. I felt capable of any sacrifice to make him hap-
pier, and to show him my gratitude and love.

"There is another matter to be considered, Clary,"
he said, after consultations on various subjects; "we
shall want somebody to take care of us. You are
rather too young to be a housekeeper yet, and I shall
be at my office in the City all the day. Who is to see
the larder filled, and keep the house in order P "

" Ob ! do let us have Mrs. Armstrong ! " I exclaimed.

" What ! the terrible Armstrong, Clary," he said,
smiling. " Since when has she become a favourite ? "

"She was so good," I stammered, "so kind at
Shrimpton — I shall never forget, papa— indeed, I love
her very much now."

304 almeria's castle.

" I am very glad of it, Clary. I would not propose
it, for fear of vexing you, but I should like to have her
with us better than any body, and I think she will be
willing to return to us."

The morning came for our return to Yeldham.
When Charlie saw our boxes brought down to the hall,
he expressed a determination to remain where he was,
and could only be pacified by the assurance that my
father was going to travel with us. Mrs. Collier took
a tender leave of me ; then, as she held my hand for a
minute, added, "I am not going to trouble you with
advice, Clary. Truth and openness are always best.
Act as your heart and conscience dictate, and fear
nothing, my child."

My father was silent and thoughtful during our
journey, and I did my utmost to prevent Charlie dis-
turbing him with questions. We had, perhaps de-
signedly, travelled by so early a train, that the carriage
from Yeldham had not been sent to Daleford to meet
us, although it had been ordered, as I afterwards heard,
to proceed thither at a later hour. My father helped
us out of the railway-carriage, and called a fly, and in
a few minutes we were moving along the road towards
the village. We were all silent now, Charlie being
occupied with a bag of sweet biscuits provided by Mrs.
Collier, in case of emergency. My father *s face was

NEWS FROM AFAR. 305

pale and sad as he looked on scenery once so familiar,
and I heard him sigh frequently, but I did not inter-
rupt the current of his thoughts, painful as they evi-
dently were.

" Now, Clary, good-bye," he said, when, after pass-
ing through Daleford village, the driver paused at the
great gates of Yeldham-park. " Here we part for the
present. I shall be at the inn at Daleford till to-
morrow morning. God bless you, children."

The door of the fly was closed again after his exit,
and we were passing through the gate, before Charlie
had so far overcome his amazement, as to utter a wail
of lamentation at my father's unexpected disappear-
ance; and I was fully employed in soothing him till
we reached the hall-door and were admitted by Kubba.

" Come soon I " the African exclaimed. *' Mistress
never think you come so soon."

As I led in the drooping Charlie, Miss Douglas came
running to meet us.

" We expected you later," she said, as she kissed us,
" and I was coming to meet you at the station. Come
into the drawing-room at once to Miss Bletworth : she
knows you have arrived."

Charlie ran on first, to tell his trouble and be petted
into cheerfulness again, and as I followed with Miss
Douglas, I saw that Miss Bletworth looked beyond us

306 ALMCRTA's CASTI.E.

with a yearning, impatient glance, as if expecting tliat
some one more might be coming ; then with a sigh of
disappointment, greeted me not unkindly, though with-
out much appearance of interest.

" You are come earlier than I expected you, Clarissa,"
she said. " Who brought you back ?"

" Papa brought us," I replied ; and she started from
her seat, exclaiming, " Where is he P Is he here ?"

" No," I replied, (and as I spoke she sank back on
her chair ;) " he only came to the gate with us. He is
at Daleford, at the inn."

For the space of a minute she sat white and rigid ;
then she rose, walked with a steady step to the fire-
place and rang the bell, fixing her eyes on the door,
and tapping impatiently with her little foot until the
servant came.

" The carriage immediately," she said, as Kubba
opened the door ; and when he stopped to ask which
carriage she would have, her eyes flashed angrily
as she answered, "No matter; only let it come at

once."

Kubba's black face instantly vanished, and Miss
Bletworth also left the room. In a very short time,
the carriage that had been prepared to fetch us, was
brought to the door, a small figure wrapped in furs en-
tered it, and was wheeled rapidly away down the road

NEWS FROM AFAR. 307

by which we had so lately come. I was glad that nurse
carried off Charlie, and I could sit down quietly and
take breath. Miss Douglas worked diligently at some
embroidery, and wisely abstained from speech, so I had
a little time for reflection. What was going to happen ?
was the old feud to be healed ? was the fairy Almeria
gone to speak words of peace ?

I could hear my heart beat as I sat in the recess of
the window, looking out on the road that wound away
below the hill and beyond the lake, between the leafless
woods. There was no other sound for a long time, save
the click of Miss Douglas's needle, and the occasional
crackle of a log that Kubba had lately thrown on the
fire. Outside, the air was very still, and the sky un-
usually clear for November. By and by, when I had
watched for a full hour, I heard a distant rumbling of
wheels, then I saw the returning carriage sweep past
the woods and begin to ascend the hill. In vain I tried
to discover if there were more than one person within
the vehicle ; the windows in front were closed, and I
was obliged to wait the event as patiently as I could.
I shrank behind the curtain lest I should be observed,
and so missed seeing whoever dismounted from the
carriage ; but presently there were steps on the stairs,
and, as Miss Douglas glided away by a side entrance,
the door from the hall was thrown open by Kubba, and

X 2

308 almeria's castle.

Miss Bletworth entered, leaning on the arm of my
father. . Almost hidden by the drapery, I gazed, spell-
bound, and saw my father, after leading his companion
to a seat, look round him like one in a dream.

"Shall I wake presently, AlmeriaP" he said, with
a faint smile. " I almost think I must be asleep. Or
have all these pabt sorrowful years been a dream?
Which is the reality P"

Perhaps while he spoke, she was thinking of the
change that had passed over him since she had last seen
him there. He had then been very young and gay :
now he was prematurely aged, and altered by sorrow
and anxiety. She rose and stretched her arms towards
him, crying, " Forgive me, Charlie, forgive ! "

He took her hands and kissed her wrinkled forehead,
as he answered, " Don't speak of forgiveness, Almeria.
I was wrong too. I have often repented — not," he
added, hastily, " not for one moment of the act which
first angered you."

" I know, I know," she interrupted ; " I was cruel,
unjust. Pity me, Charlie, for I can never make atone*
ment. I knew her as she really was, too late, too
late ! " .

" She never bore malice towards you," continued my
father, " and you have been good to her children. Let
the past be as if it had not been. She had but one

NEWS FROM AFAR. 309

grief, and that was the knowledge of our estrangement.
My pride would not let me seek a reconciliation while
I Wfits poor, and it is of this that I repent."

" And I can do nothing for you now," she said sadly ;
" nothing, with all my boasted wealth."

He shook his head with the sad smile now so habitual
to him ; " I want no wealth," he said ; " I have enough.
But you can love me and my children. You know not
how glad I am that we are friends again."

At this point in the conversation I took courage to
come forward.

" What, Clary, you there ! " exclaimed my father.
"Little eavesdropper, how came you to be hidden
there, hearing our conversation ?"

I knew he was not really angry, and I managed to
explain that I had not had courage to interrupt the
conversation earlier ; and I think my father was glad
to turn to new and less agitating topics. Soon after-
wards, the sound of the great gong gave notice that
dinner-time was near. We all dined together now,
even Charlie, at four o'clock ; and as no one had had
leisure during this agitating morning, to think of the
claims of hunger, we were not sorry to find the day so
far advanced.

"Your room is ready for you, Charlie," said Miss
Bletworth, rising, "and. you will find Kubba attentive

310 alm£Ria's castle.

aad iutclligant." She laid her hand on my father's
arm and looked at him while she spoke, as if she could
not bear to lose sight of him again, even for a moment.

"And who is Kubba?" he said, smiling. "Where
did you pick up that princely African, who looks to
perfection the character of porter to the fiiiry Almeria's
enchanted palace ? *'

" Ah ! don't laugh at me, Charlie ! I saw a> troop of
boys and men tormenting a poor ragged black man,
one day about three years ago, in Daleford Street. I
was driving fast and came on them unawares ...."»

" Yes ! I see it all," interrupted my father, laugh-
ing ; " I see the pony-chaise transformed into a war-
chariot, and the avenging goddess, a very Bellona,
with flashing eyes and cutting words, making the piti-
ful crowd slink away like beaten hounds. I see it all,
Almeria! Well, when the enemy had fled in con-
fusion, and you stood face to face with the African
prince, you offered him your alliance and friendship?"

" I brought him here in my carriage," she answered ;
" heard his story, and told him I would give him a fair
trial as my servant. He has served me well and faith-
fully ever since. His story was simple enough. He
came in a merchant-ship, working his passage from
Sierra Leone, and fancying he should better himself by
coming to England."

NEWS FROM AFAR. 311

"He has fallen on his feet now," my father said.
** The garments of blue and scarlet must be happiness
enough for a savage."

" I am afraid," she replied, with a deprecating glance,
" they were intended to punish Daleford, as much as to
gratify Kubba ! "

" The same Almeria still, I see ! " said my father ;
and the words seemed to be spoken and received with
equal pleasure.

There is little left for me to say, for after this
memorable reconciliation, my life flowed on quietly
enough, and the days of my childhood were passed for
ever. Mrs. Armstrong joyfully returned to us, and
took charge of the house in London, which I to this
day call my home ; sitting by patiently while I took
lessons of diflferent masters, and looking dignified in
the gown of black silk she always wore. Her love for '
Charlie was always her strongest feeling; but she
treated me with an affection and kindness of which
I once scarcely believed her capable. The summer
months Charlie and I always passed at Yeldham, my
ftither joining us there almost daily, after his business
was done. Miss Douglas, until she married the curate,
remained with Miss Bletworth as companion, and added
much to the happiness I enjoyed at Yeldham.

The Colliers have ever been our dearest friends,

312 almeria's castle.

and we have met often, both in London and in the
country.

The first time I went to their pretty place in Hamp-
shire, an agreeable surprise awaited me. From a seat
in the trim garden of the porter's lodge, there rose and
came forward to open the gate for us, the familiar
figure of my old friend^ Tom Stubbs. I called to the
driver to stop, and leaned from the carriage-window to
shake hands with the old man, who stood flushed and
happy, with the wind blowing his white hair, and his
one eye moist with feeling.

" Yes, missy," he said, " the good lady and gentleman
up yonder have given me this home for love of you ;
and what with running to the gate, and pottering about
among the flowers, and carving of little toys for them
purty little dears at the house, I've plenty to do, and
it suits me better than the place where you saw me last.
I've cast anchor here for the rest o' my life, and thank
God ! missy, I shall see your dear face a-shining on me
now and then. God bless you 1"

Like an echo, I repeat old Tom's benison ;

God bless you !

THE END.

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tion. Royal 16mo, price 2«. 6<f., cloth.

** A new and Taluable form of endless Bxaxaement.**~-Noneonformisi,

** We recommend it to all who have children to be instructed and amused. '*->£c»nomuf.

The Girl's Own Toy Maker,

And Book of Becreation. By E: and A. Landells. Third Edition.
With 200 Illustrations. Boyid 16mo. price 2s. Sd, cloth.
" A perfect magazine of information."— iZ/twIrafetf Netcf of ffte World,

Home Pastime ;

Or, The Child's Own Toy Maker. With practical instructions. By
£. Landeli.8. New and Cheaper Edition, price Ss, 6d!. complete, with
the Cards, and Descriptive Letterpress.

%♦ By this novel and ingenious "Pastime," Twelve beautiful Models can
be made by Children from the Cards, by attending to the Plain and Simple
Instructions in the Book.

'* As a delightfiil exercise of ingenuity, ftnd a most sensible mode of passing a winter^
evening, we commend the Child's own Toy Maker.** — lUttstrated Netog,
** Sliould be in every house blessed with the presence of children."— 7%^ Field,

The Illustrated Paper Model Maker ;

Containing Twelve Pictorial Subjects, with Descriptive Letter-press
and Diagrams for the construction of the Models. By E. Landells.
Price 28. in a neat Envelope.

** A most excellent mode of ducating both eye and hand in the knowledge of fbrm.**—
English Chun^man.

THE LATE THOMAS HOOD.

Fairy Land;

Or, Becreation for the Rising Generation, in Prose and Verse. By
Thomas and Jane Hood. Illustrated by T. Hood, Jnn. Second
Edition. Super-royal 16mo; price 3s, 6U. cloth; 4«, 6d, coloured
gilt edges.

** These tales are charming. Before it goes into the Nnrsery, we recommend all grown
up people should study * Fairy IoluA*— Blackwood.' **

The Headlong Career and Woful Ending of Preco-
cious PIGGY. Written for his Children, by the late Thomas Hood.
With a Preface by his Daughter; and Illustrated by his Son. Eourth
Edition. Post4lo, fancy boards, price 28, 6d., coloured.

** The Illnstralions are intensely humourous.**— 7Ae Critic.

12

NEW AND INTERESTING WORKS

I

BY THE AUTHOR OF '* TRIUMPHS OF STEAM,** ETC.

Meadow Lea ;

Or, the Oipsj Ckildren; a Story founded on fact. By the Anthor of
** The Triumphs of Steam,** ** Our Eastern Empire,** etc. With lUustra-
tionf by JoHH GiLBBRT. Fcap. 8vo. price is. 6d, cloth; 58. giU edges.

The Triumphs of Steam ;

Or, Stories from the Lives of Watt, Arkwright, and Stephenson. With
illustrations by J. Gilbebt. Dedicated by permistiion to Robert
Stephenson, Esq., M.P. Second edition. Royal l6mo, price Ss, 6d,
cloth; 4«. 6dL, coloured, gilt edges.
** A most delidoas Tolume of ezaroples.**— ilrl JoumtU,

Our Eastern Empire;

Or, Stories from the History of British India. Second Edition, with

Continaation to the Prodamation of Queen Victoria. With Four

Illustrations. Royal l6mo. cloth Ss» 6d; As. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

** These stories are charming, and convey a general view of the progress of oar Empire In
the East The tales are told with admirable clearness."— J/Aentfum.

Might not Right;

Or, Stories of the Discovery and Conquest of America, nius-

trated by J. Gilbert. Royal 16mo. price 3«. 6d, cloth; 4s. 6d.

coloured, gilt edges.

*' With the fortunes of Columbus. Cortes, and Picarro, for the staple of these stories, the
writer has sucoeeded in producing a very interesting volume."— iZhfv<nife(f Neuu.

Tuppy ;

Or the Autobiography of a Donkey. By the Author of " The Triumphs

of Steam," etc., etc. Illustrated by Uabrisov Weir. Super Royal

16mo. price 2^. 6d. cloth; S«. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

** A very intelligent donkey, worthyof the distinction conferred upon him by the artist.'*
—Art Journai. ^_^^^^^

1 . The History of a Quartern Loaf.

in Rhymes and Pictures. By William Newman. 12 Illnstrations.
Price 6d, plain, Is. coloured. 2s. 6(/. on linen, and bound in cloth.

Uniform in size and price,

2. The History of a Cup of Tea.

3. The History of a Scuttle of Coals.

4. The History of a Lump of Sugar.

5. The History of a Bale of Cotton.

6. The History of a Golden Sovereign.

^r.***J^^^' i ^3 and 4 to 6, may be had bound in Ti^o Volumes. Cloth
price 2s. each, plain; 3s. 6d. coloured.

PUBLISHED BY CRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 13

Distant Homes;

Or, the Graham Family in New Zealand. By Mrs. I. E. Atlmbr.
With Illustrations by J. Jackson. Super Boyal 16mo. price 3s. 6d,
cloth; 48. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

** English children will be delighted with the history of the Graham Familj, and be
enabled to fonn pleasant and trnthM conceptions of tlie ' Distant Homes' inhabited bj
their kindred."'^^f Aenorifm.

Neptune's Heroes : or The Sea Kings of England;

from Hawkins to Franklin. By W. H. Dayenpobt Adams. Illustrated
by Morgan. Fcap. 8yo; price 5«. cloth; 58, 6d, gilt edges.

" We tmst Old England may ever hare writers as ready and able to interpret to her
children the noble lives of her greatest men.**— ^Menceifm.

Hand Shadows,

To be thrown upon the Wall. By Henrt Borsill. First and Second
Series each containing Eighteen Original Designs. 4to price 28. each
plain ; 2s, 6(L coloured.
*' Unoommonly cleTer— 4(»ne wonderfiil effects are produced."— 7%e Preu.

WORKS FOR DISTRIBUTION.

A Woman's Secret;

Or How to Make Home Happy. 27 .h Thousand. 18mo. price 6d,
By the same Author, uniform in size and price,

Woman's Work ; or, How she can Help the Sick.

Sixteenth Thousand.

A Chapter of Accidents ;

Or, the Mother's Assistant in cases of Bums, Scalds, Cuts, &c. Eighth
Thousand.

Pay To-day, Trust To-morrow;

A Story illustrative of the Evils of the Tally System. Sixth Thousand.

Nursery Work;

Or Hannah Baker's First Place. Fourth Thousand.

Family Prayers for Cottage Homes ;

With a Few Words on Prayer, and Select Scripture Passages. Fcap.
8vo. price 4rf. limp cloth.
\* These little works are admirably adapted for circulation among the working

14

NEW AND INTeKKSTINO WORKS

Our Soldiers;

BY W. H. G. KINGSTON.

Or, Anecdotes of the Campainii and Gallant Deeds of the British
Army daring the reign of Her Majesty Qaeen Victoria. B7 W. H. G.
KiifOSTOir. Wiith Frontispiece from a Painting in the Victoria Cross
Gallerj. Second Edition, f cp. Svo. price 3#. cloth; 3«. 6d. gilt edges.

Our Sailors;

Or, Anecdotes of the Engagements and Gallant Deeds of the Britbh
Nav J daring the reign of Her Majesty Qaeen Victoria. By W. H. G.
K1HO8TON. With Frontispiece. Second Edition, Fcap. 8ro.
price 3s, cloth; 3«. 6d. gilt edges.

"Thefle rolnmet abondantlj prora that both our officers and men In the Army and Naiy,
hare been found as ready as ever to dare^ and to do aa was dared and done of yore, when
led by a NeUon or a Wellington."

W. H. C. KINGSTON'S BOOKS FOR BOYS.

With Blnstrations. Fcap. 8yo. price 5«. each, doth; 58. 6d, gilt edges.

True Blue ;

Or, the Life and Adrentnres of a British Seaman of the Old School.

** Tliere Is abont all Mr. Kingston's tales a spirit of hopefulness, honesty, and cheery
good principle, which makes them most wholesome, as well as most interesting reading.** —
A'ra.

Will Weatherhelm ;

Or, the Yam of an Old Sailor about his Early Life and Adventures.

Fred Markham in Russia;

Or, the Boy Travellers in the Land of the Czar.

Salt Water ;

Or Neil D*Arcy's Sea Life and Adventures. With Eight Illastrations.

"With the exception of Capt. Harryat, we know of no English author who ¥rill compare
with Ifr. Kingston as a writer of books of nautical aiventun "-^Illustrated News.

Mark Seaworth;

A Tale of the Indian Ocean. By the Author of " Peter the Whaler,"
etc With Illastrations hj J. Absolok. Second Edition.

Peter the Whaler ;

His earl^ Life and Adventures in the Arctic Begions. Third Edition.
Illastrations by E. Duncan.

Old Nurse's Book of Rhymes, Jingles, and Ditties,

lUnstrated by C« H. Bsitnstt. With Ninety Engravings. New-
Edition* Ecap. 4ta, price 3«. 6d, cloth, plain, or 6j. coloured.

*' ni« iUustrations are all ao replete- ivith Am and imai^natioa, that we acaredy know
who will be most pleased with the book, the good-natured gprandfather who gives it, or the
chubby grandchUd who gets it, for a Christmas-Box."— A^ote« and Qtteriet,

Home Amusements.

A Choice Collection of Biddies, Charades, Connndrums, Parlonr
Games, and Forfeits. By Pster Pczzlbwell, Esq., of Bebns Hall.
New Edition, with frontispiece by Phiz. 16mo, 2«. Gd. cloth.

Clara Hope;

Or, the Blade and the Ear. . By Miss Milner. With Frontispiece
by Birket Foster. Fcap. 8yo. price Ss, 6d. cloth; 4s, 6d, cloth elegant,
gilt edges.

"A beautifal narrative, showing how bad habits may be eradicated, and eril tempers
subdued."— i7W/wA Mother'i Journal.

Pages of Child Life;

By Cathasine Augusta Howell, author of " Pictures of School
Life." With Three Illustrations. Fcap. 8ro , price 3s. 6d, cloth.

The Adventures and Experiences of Biddy Dork-

ING and of the FAT FBOG. Edited by Mrs. S. C. Hall. Illustrated
by H. Weir. 2«. 6d, cloth; 3*. 6rf. coloured, gilt edges.

** Most amusingly and wittily told.**— 3fom«n^ Herald*

Historical Acting Charades ;

Or, Amusements for Winter Evenings, by the author of " Cat and
])og,'* etc. New Edition. Fcap. 8vo., price 3«. 6c/. cloth gilt edges.

"A rare book for Christmas parties, and of practical \9luio.**'~Illutirated Newt.

The Story of Jack and the Giants :

With thirty-five Dlustrations by Richard Dotle. Beautifully printed.
New and Cheaper Edition. Fcap. 4to. price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3«.6f/.
coloured, extra cloth, gilt edges.

" In Doyle's drawings we have wonderAil conceptions, which will secure the book a
place amongst the treasures of coUecton^ as well as excite the imannationsof children."
—Ilkutraied Timet,

Granny's Wonderful Chair ;

And its Tftlet of Fairy Times. By Fbaitcm Bbowmb. Illiistradons
by Kbxnt Mbaxwws. 3s, ^ cloth, 4«. 6d cdloared^

" One of ttie lia|»pieit blendingi of marrel and moral m hare ever seen.**— Llferafy

The Early Dawn ;

Or, Stories to Think aboat Illnstrated b/ H. Weir, etc Small
4tas price 2s. 6^1 cloth; 3«. Gd cdoured, gilt edges.

Angelo ;

Or, the Fine Forest among the Alps. Bj Gbraldikb E. Jbwsbubt,
author of ** The Adopted Child," etc. Illastrations by J. Arsolon.
Second Edition. Price 2«. 6d, cloth; 3s, 6(L coloured, gilt edges.

** As pretty a child's story as one might look for on a winter's day.**— J?xain<iMr.

Tales of Magic and Meaning.

Written and Illustrated by Alfbbd Cbowquill. Small 4to.; price
Ss. 6dL doth; 4s, 6d coloured.

** Clererly written, abounding in flrollc and pathos, and inculcates so pure a moral, tliat
we must pronounce him a very fortunate little fellow, who catches these * Tales of Magic,*
as a windiUl from * The Christmas Tree*/'— ilMen«ttm.

Faggots for the Fire Side ;

Or, Tales of Fact and Fancy. By Fbteb Fablbt. With Twelve
Tinted Illustrations. Kew Edition. Foolscap 8yo.; 3«. Od., cloth;
4j; 6d, coloured, gilt edges.

'* A new book by Peter Parley is a pleasant greeting for all boys and girls, wherever the
Bnirlish language is spoken and read. He has a happy method of conveying information,
wliiie seemmg to address himself to the imagination. '^TAe CriHe,

Letters from Sarawak,

Addressed to a Child; embracing an Account of the Manners, Cus-
toms, and Religion of the Inhabitants of Borneo, with Incidents of
Missionary Life among the Natives. By Mrs. M'Douoall. Fourth
Thousand, with Illostrations. 3s. 6d, cloth.

** All is new, interesting, mA admirably iold.**^Chureh and State Gazette.

Berries and Blossoms.

A Verse Book for Children. By T. Westwood. With Title and
Frontispiece printed in Colours. Frice 3s. 6d. cloth, gilt edges.

PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN.

17

The Discontented Children ;

And How they were Cured,
bj H. K. Bbowme (Phis.).
3$. 6dL coloured, gilt edges.

By M. and E. Eirbt. Illustrated
Third edition, price 2s. 6c/. cloth;

**We know no better method of banishing *diaoontent * flrom tehool-room and nursery
than bj introducing this wise and clever itory to their inoutes."— ilrl Journal,

The Talking Bird ;

Or, the Little Girl who knew what was going to happen. Bj M. and
E. KiBBT. With Ulastrations by H. K. Browne (Phiz). Small 4to.
Price 2«. 6<^. cloth; 3«. 6(/. coloured, gilt edges. ^

Julia Maitland ;

Or, Pride goes before a Fall. By M. and £. Eirbt. Illustrated by
Absolon. Price 2s. 6</. cloth; Ss. 6</. coloured, gilt edges.

**It is nearly sncli a story as Miss Edgeworth might have written on the same theme.**—
Th€ Prut,

COMICAL PICTURE BOOKS.
Unifwrm in »iu with ** The Stmwwelpeter."

Each with Sixteen large Coloured Plates, price 2«. 6</., in fancy boards,

or mounted on cloth. Is. extra.

Picture Fables.

Written and Illustrated by Alprbd Cbowquill.

The Careless Chicken ;

By the Baron Erakehsides. By Alfred Crowquill.

Funny Leaves for the Younger Branches.

By the Baron Erakehsides, of Burstenoudelafen Castle. Illustrated
by AuriKED Crowquill.

Laugh and Grow Wise ;

By the Senior Owl of Ivy Hall. With Sixteen large coloured
Plates. Price 2s, Gd, fancy boards; or Ss, 6d. mounted on cloth.

The Remarkable History of the House that Jack

Baill. Spleodid^j Illustraied and magnificently Illuminated bj This
Son or a Gsmius. Price 2«. infancy cover,

** Magoifloent in niggMtion, and most comical in expression t **^Athem€nun,

A Peep at the Pixies ;

Or, Legends of the West. Bj Mrs. Bsay. Author of ** Life of
Stothard,** " Trelawnj," etc., etc. With Illustrations bj Phiz. Super-
royal 16mo, price 3«. 6d cloth; Aa. GdL coloured, gilt edges.

*' A peep at the actual Pixies of DeTOnabire, faithftilly described by Mrs. Braj, is a
treat. Her knoirle<J^ of the locality, her affection for her subject, her exquisite feeling
for nature, and her real delight in fairy lore, have ^ven a fireshncss to the little volume
we did not expect. The notes at the end contain matter of interest for all who feel a
desire to know the <H4gin of such tales and legends." — Art Journal,

A BOOK FOR EVERY CHILD.

The Favourite Picture Book ;

A Gallery of Delights, designed for the Amusement and Instruction of
the Young. With several Hundred Illustrations from Drawings by
J. Absolon, H. K. Bbownb (Phiz), J. Gilbebt, T. Lamdseer,
J. Leech, J. S. Fbout, U. Weib, etc. New Edition. Royal 4to.,
bound in a new and Elegant Cover, price 3«. 6d!. plain; 7«. 6<f. coloured;
10«. 6dL mounted on cloth and coloured.

Ocean and her Rulers ;

A Narrative of the Nations who have held dominion over the Sea;
and comprising a brief History of Navigation. By Alfred Elwes.
With Frontispiece. Fcap. 8vo, 5«. cloth: 5«. 6dl. gilt edges.

*' The Tolume is replete with valuahle and interesting information ; and we cordially
recommend it as a useful auxiliary in the school-room, and entertaining o(»npanion in the
library."— Aformv Pott,

Sunday Evenings with Sophia;

Or, Little Talks on Great Subjects. A Book for Girls. By Leonora
G. Bell. Frontispiece by J. Absolon. Fcap. 8vo, price 2«. 6dl. cloth.

Blind Man's Holiday ;

Or Short Tales for the Nursery. By the Author of '' Mia and Charlie,**
•• Sidney Grey," etc. Illustrated by John Absolon. Super Boyal
16mo. price 3«. 6</. cloth; 4«. 6(/. coloured, gilt edges.

PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 19

The Wonders of Home, in Eleven Stories.

By Gkakpfather Gbet. With niustrations. Third and Cheaper
Edition. Bojral 16mo., 2a» ^, cloth; 3«. 6dL coloured, gilt edges.

C0KTBNT8. — 1. The Story of a Cup of Tea. — 2. A Lump of CoaL— -3.
Some Hot Water.~4. A Piece of Sugar.— 5. The Milk Jug.— 6. A
Pin.— 7. Jenny's Sash. — 8. Harry's Jacket. — 9. A Tumbler.— 10. A
Knife.— 11. This Book.

'* The idea is excellent, and its ezecation equaUy commendable. The suMeets are irell
selected, and are verj happily told in a light yet sensible manner." — Wwkly A0ir#.

Cat and Dog ;

Or, Memoirs of Fuss and the Captain. Illustrated^by Weir. Seventh
Edition. Super-royal 16mo, 2«. 6(/. cloth; S«. %d. coloured, gilt edges.

" The author of this amusing little tale is, endently, a keen obserrer of nature. The
illustrations are well executed ; and the menu, which points the tale, is conveyed in the
most attractive ivrm"— Britannia,

The Doll and Her Friends ;

Or, Memoirs of the Lady Seraphina. By the Author of " Cat and
Dog." Third Edition. With Tour Illustrations by H. K. Bbowne
(Phiz). 28, 0(L, cloth; 88. 6cf. coloured, gilt edges.

Tales from Catland ;

Dedicated to tne Young Kittens of England. By an Old Tabbt.
Illustrated by H. Weir. Fourth Edition. Small 4to, 25. 6(/. plain;
38. 6d. coloured, gilt edges.

'* The combination of quiet humour and sound sense has made this oneof thepleasantest
little books of the season." — Lady^g Newgpaper.

Scenes of Animal Life and Character.

From Nature and Becollection. In Twenty Plates. By J. B. 4to>

price 2«., plain; 28. 6(/., coloured, fancy boards.

** Truer, heartier, more playful, or more ^ei^oyable sketches of animal life could
scarcely be found taiyrfrhev9.'--Speclator.

ELEGANT GIFT FOR A LADY.

Trees, Plants, and Flowers ;

Their Beauties, Uses and Influences. By Mrs. B. Lee, Author of

"The African Wanderers," etc. With beautiful coloured Illustrations

by J. Andrews. 8vo, price 108. 6d., cloth elegant, gilt edges.

*' The volume is at once useftil as a botanical work, and exquisite as the ornament of a
boudoir table."— J^Wtonnta. ** As fUll of interest as of beauty."— Jrt Journal.

20 NKW AND INTERESTING WORKS

WORKS BY MRS. R. LEE.

Anecdotes of the Habits and Instincts of Animals.

Third and Cheaper Edition. With Illustrations by Harribom Wbib.
Fcap. Syo, 3m, 6dL doth ; 4«. gilt edges.

Anecdotes of the Habits and Instincts of Birds,

REPTILES, and FISHES. With Illustrations hj Harrison Weir.

Second and Cheaper Edition. Fcap. 8to, Ss, 6d, cloth; 4«. gilt edges.

** Amnsliig, InstructlTe, and ablj written.**— Zflfrory Gazette.

** ]lr». Lm*s aathoritiefl-*to name only one, Professor Owen— are, for the meet part
first-rate.'— ^/Acninm*.

Twelve Stories of the Sayings and Doings of

ANIMALS. With Illustrations bjr J. W. Archer. Third Edition.
Super- royal 16mo, 2s, 6d. cloth; S«. 6d, coloured, gilt edges.

'* It is Just sneh books as this that educate the imagination of children, and enlist their
BjmpaUues for the brute creation." — S'lmeon/brmut.

Familiar Natural History.

With Fortj-two Illustrations from Original Drawings hy Harrison
Weir. Super-royal 16mo,3«.6</. cloth; 5«. coloured gilt edges.

\* The above may be had in Two Yolumep, 2«. each plain ; 2s. 6<£.
Coloured, Entitled ** British Animals and Birds." Foreign Animals and
Birds."

Playing at Settlers ;

Or, the Faggot House. Illustrated hj Gilbert. Second Edition.
Price 28, 6(L cloth; 3«. 6d, coloured, gilt edges.

Adventures in Australia;

Or, the Wanderings of Captain Spencer in the Bush and the Wilds.
Second Edition. Illustrated by Frout. Fcap. 8yo., 5s, cloth; 5s. GdL
gilt edges.

** This volume shonid find a place in every school library ; and it will, we are sore, be a
Tcry welcome and aseAil pTize.**^£dueational Timet.

The African Wanderers ;

Or, the Adventures of Carlos and Antonio; embracing interesting

Descriptions of the Manners and Customs of the Western Tribes, and

the Natural Productions of the Country. Third Editioiu With Eight

Engravings. Fcap. 8vo, 5«. cloth ; 5«. 6</. gilt edges.

** For fascinating adventure, and rapid succesaion of incident, tlie volume is equal to any
relation of travel we ever read."— ^/i/dnma.

Sir Thomas; or, the Adventures of a Cornish

BARONET IN WESTERN AFRICA. With lUustrations by
J. GiLBEBT. Fcap. 8vo.; 3*. 6rf. cloth.

PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 21

Harry Hawkins's H -Book ;

Shewing how he learned to aspirate his H's. Frontispiece hy H. Wbir-
Second Edition. Super-royal ICmo, price 6rf.
" No fomfly or ichool-rooin within, or indeed beyond, the sound of Bow bells, should bo
witbont this merry manual." — Art Journal,

The Family Bible Newly Opened ;

With Uncle Goodwin's account of it. By Jbffebts Tatlob.
Frontispiece by J. Gilbbbt. Fcap. 8vo, 3». 6d. cloth.
" A veiy good account of the Sacred Writings, adapted to the tastes, feelings, and intel-
ligence ofyoung people."— £tfttca<ion<i/- TimeM,

Kate and Rosalind ;

Or, Early Experiences. By the author of « Quicksands on Foreign
Shores," etc Fcap. 8vo, 3*. 6rf. cloth; As. gilt edges.

" A book of unusual merit. The story is exceedingly well told, and **>• c^"gW ""
drawn with a freedom and boldness seldom met with.^^-CAurcA of England QwH-t^^.

" We have not room to exemplify the skiU with which Puseylsm to V*c^^»^°«J?^V^r;
The Irish scenes are of an excellence that has not been surpassed since the best days or
Miss Edgeworth."— ^roMT** Magazine,

Good in Everything ;

Or, The Early History of Gilbert Harland. By Mas. Barwbll,

Author of "Little Lessons for Little Learners," etc. Second Edition.

Illustrations by Gilbert. 2*. 6d. cloth; 3*.6rf , coloured, giit edges.

" The moral of this exquisite UtUe tale will do more good than a thousand set tasks

abounding with dry and uninteresting truisms."— BelT* Meuenger.

NSW AND BEAUTIFUL LIBRARY EDITION.

The Vicar of Wakefield;

A Tale. By Oliver Goldsmith. Printed by Whittingham. With

Eight Illustrations by J. Absolon. Square fcap. 8vo, price 5s., cloth;

7s. half-bound morocco, Roxburghe style; 10*. 6rf. antique morocco.

Mr. Absolon's graphic sketches add greatly to the Interest of the volume: altogether,

it is as pretty an edition of the • Vicar' as we have seen. Mrs. Primrose herseU would

consider it * well dressed.' "—i<r< Joumo/. , ^ ,,^ j*vi.i,

" A delightftil edition of one of the most delightftil of works : the fine old type and tmck

paper mske this Tolume attractive to any lover of books."— £rfin*ttr^A GwtrdHtn,

Domestic Pets;

Their Habits and Management; with Illustrative Anecdotes. By

Mrs. Loudon. With Engravings from Drawings by Harrison Weir.

Second Thousand. Fcap. 8vo, 2s, 6d. cloth.

*'A most attractive and instructive little work. All who study Mrs. Loudon's pa|^ will
be able to treat their pets with certainty and iriadom,**-^ta$tdard o/Fi-tedom,

22 NEW AND NTERESTINC WORKS

Glimpses of Nature ;

And ObjecU of Interest detcribed daring a Visit to the Isle of YTi^txL

Designed to assist and encourage Tonng Persons in forming habits of

obserration. By Mrs. Loitdon. Second Edition^ enlarged. WiUi

Fortj-one lUnstrations. Sm. 6dL doth.

"Wteoidd not reoomnMnd a more Tahuible little Totnme. ItislbUrfinfimnation^oim-
vtyed in tb* moit agrenble muxa&t,**~-LUerary Gazette.

Tales of School Life.

B)r AoHxs LouDOV. With lUnstrations by John Absoix>r. Second

Edition. Rojral 16mo, 2s, 6<L plain; St.6i2. colonred, gilt edges.

These raminiieenoce of tehool dejs will be recofl;niMd as trathfid pictures of ererj-dMj
nrrenoe. The style is oolloquisl end plessent, and therefore well suited to those for

whose pemsal it is intended."— ilM«n«ui».

Clarissa Donnelly ;

Or, The History of .an Adopted Child. By GanAi^DnnB £.

Jbwsbubt. With an Iliiistration by John Absolon. Fcap. Sro,

ds.6d cloth; 4«. gilt edges.

** With wonderftil power, only to be matched by as admirable a rimplielty, Miss Jewsbory
has narrated the history or a child. For nobility of purpose, for simple, nervous writinc,
and for artlsUo constraction, it is one of tibe most valuable works of the day."-.X4uJy^«
Companion,

E very-Day Things;

Or, Useful Knowledge respecting the principal Animal, Vegetable, and

Mineral Substances in common use. Second Edition, revised. ISmo.,

Is. 6(/. cloth.

'* A little eneyolopndia of useflil knowledge, deserving aplace in every Juvenile Ubrazy."
^Evangelical Magazine.

PRICE SIXPENCE EACH, PLAIN; ONE SHILLING, COLOURED'

In Super-Boyal 16mo., beautifvlly printed^ each with Seven Illustrations b^f
HARSiBoxf Weir, ana Descriptions hy Mrs. Lee.

1. BRITISH ANIMALS. 1st Scries.

2. BRITISH ANIMALS. 2nd „

3. BRITISH BIRDS.

4. FOREIGN ANIMALS. Ist Series.
5.F0REIGN ANIMALS. 2nd „
6. FOREIGN BIRDS.

*J^ Or bonnd in One Volume under the title of "Familiar Natural
History," Me pa^s 18.

Uniform in size and price with the above,

THE FARM AND ITS SCENES. With Six Pictures from Drawings
by HARRisoxf Weir.

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN. With Six Illus-
trations by Watts Phillips.

THE PEACOCK AT HOME, AND BUTTERFLY'S BALL. With
Four Illustrations by Harrison Weir.

PUBLISHED BY CfUFFITH AMD FARIIAN. 23

WORKS BY THE AUTHOR OF MAMMA'S BIBLE STORIES.

Fanny and her Mamma ;

Or, Easy Lessons for Children. In which it is attempted to bring Scrip-
tural Principles into daily practice. Illustrated by «f. Gilbert. Third
Edition. 16mo, 2«. 6d. cloth; 3s, 6d coloured, gilt edges.

**A Utile book in bemUAil large dear mie, to sidt the eaftfRdty <^ tsfimt readen, which
we can with pleasure rtcovamend/'—'Chrttiian Ladia^ Magazine,

Short and Simple Prayers,

For the Use of Young Children. With Hynms. Eifth Edition.

Square 1 6mo, Is, 6d, cloth.

*' Well adapted to the capacities of children— beginning with the simplest forms which
the youngest child may lisp at its moUier's knee, and proceeding with those suited to its
gradually advf'"^ " * ' . . . * .,.,__ ... ^ j

occasions, are i

gradually advancinff aire. ' Special prayers, designed 'for particular circumstances and
added, we cordially recommend the book."— CAnMuiii Guardian,

Mamma's Bible Stories,

For her Little Boys and Girls, adapted to the capacities of yery young
Children. Twelfth Edition, with Twelve Engrayings. 2«. cJ. doth;
d<. 6d coloured, gilt edges.

A Sequel to Mamma's Bible Stories.

Fifth Edition. Twelve Illustrations. 2s. 6d. cloth, 3«. 6d. coloured.

Scripture Histories for Little Children.

With Sixteen Illustrations, by John Gilbebt. Super-royal 16mo,
price 3s, cloth; 4s, 6d, coloured, gilt edges.

Contents. — The History of Joseph — ^History of Moses— History of our
Saviour— The Miracles of Christ.

Sold separate^: 6d, each, plain; Is, coloured.

Bible Scenes ;

Or, Sunday Employment for very yonng Children. Consisting of
Twelve Coloured Illustrations on Cards, and the History written in
Simple Language. In a neat box,3«. 6(i.; or the Illustrations dis-
sected as a Puzzle, 6s. 6d.

First Series: JOSEPH. Second Series: OUR SAVIOUR.

Third Series: MOSES. Fourth Series: MIRACLES OF CHRIST.

" It is hoped that these * Scenes* may form a useful and interesting addition to the Sab-
bath occupations of the Nursery. From their very earliest infancy little children will
listen with interest and deUght to Btories brought thus palpably before their eyes by means
of iliustration."-'Prtf^«.

24 new AND INTERErriNC WORKS

THE FAVOURITE LIBRARY.

A Series of Works for the Tonng; each Yolnme with an Illiistratioii
hj a well-known Artist Price 1«. doth.

1. THE ESEDALE HERD BOY. By Ladt Stoddabt.

a. MBS. LEICESTER'S SCHOOL. By Charles and Maby Lamb.

3. THE HISTORY OF THE ROBINS. By Mbs. Trimmbb.

4. MEMOIR OF BOB, THE SPOTTED TERRIER.

5. KEEPER'S TRAVELS IN SEARCH OF HIS MASTER.

6. THE SCOTTISH ORPHANS. Bj Laot Stoddart. ,

7. NEVER WRONG; or, THE YOUNG DISPUTANT; and "IT

WAS ONLY IN FUN."

8. THE LIFE AND PERAMBULATIONS OF A MOUSE.

9. EASY INTRODUCTION TO THE KNOWLEDGE OF

NATURK Bj Mrs. Trimmer.

10. RIGHT AND WRONG. By the Author of " Always Happy."

11. HARRY'S HOLIDAY. By Jefferys Taylor.

12. SHORT POEMS AND HYMNS FOR CHILDREN.

The above wtay be had Two Vclumee bound in One, cU Two Shillings eloth^

or 2«. 6(i. gUi edges, as follows: —

1. LADY STODD ART'S SCOTTISH TALES.

2. ANIMAL HISTORIES. The Doq.

3. ANIMAL HISTORIES. The Robins and Mouse.

4. TALES FOR BOYS. Harry's Holiday and Never Wrokq.

5. TALES FOR GIRLS. Mrs. Leicester's School and Right

AMD Wrokg.

6. POETRY AND NATURE. Short Poems and Trimmer's

Introduction.

ILLUSTRATED BY CEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

Kit Bam, the British Sinbad ;

Or, the Yams of an Old Mariner. By Mary Cowden Clarke, author
of **The Concordance to Shakspeare/' etc Fcap. 8vO; price 3«. 6<f.
cloth; 48. gilt edges.

PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 25

The Day of a Baby Boy ;

A Stoiy for a Toung Child. Bjr E. Bbbqbb. With niuBtrationi by
John Absolon. Third Edition. Super-royal 16mo, price 2s. 6d.
cloth; 3s, 6(L coloured, gilt edges.
** A tweet little book for the nvnerj.^—ChruUan TYmm.

Aunt Jane's Verses for Children.

By Mrs. T. D. Crbwi>80H. Illustrated with twelve beautiful Eograviogs.

Fcap. 8vo; 3s, 6d, cloth, gilt edges.

** A charming little rolame, of excellent morel and reUgioue tendem^.**— ANm^teal
Magtunne,

The Ladies' Album of Fancy Work,

Consisting of Novel, Elegant, and Usetul Patterns in Knitting, Netting,
Crochet, and Embroidery, printed in Colours. Bound in a beautiful
cover. Post 4to^ 3s, 6cf., gilt edges.

Visits to Beech wood Farm ;

Or, Country Pleasures. By Cathbrtkb M. A. Coupbb. ninstrations
by AnsOLON. Small 4to, 3s. 6(/., plain; As, 6d, coloured; gilt edges.

The Modem British Plutarch ;

Or, Lives of Men distinguished in the recent History of our Country
for their Talents, Virtues and Achievements. By W. C. Tatlob, LL.D.
Author of ** A Manual of Ancient and Modern History,*' etc. 12mo,
Second Thousand, with a new Frontispiece. As, 6d. cloth ; 5s, gilt edges.

** A work which will be welcomed in any circle of intelligent young per8ons.*'~^r»M«A
Qtutrterfy Beview,

Stories of Julian and his Playfellows.

Written by His Mamma. With Four Illustrations by John Absolon.
Second Edition. Small 4to., 2s, 6(/., plain; 3s, Sd,, coloured, gilt edges.

The Nine Lives of a Cat;

A Tale of Wonder. Written and Hlustrated by C. H. Brmbbtt.
Twenty-four Engravings, price 2s, cloth; 2s, 6d, coloured.

" Rich in the quaint humour and fiuicy that a man of genius knowe how to spare for the
enlivenment of cbildnn.'*-^Examiner,

The Celestial Empire ;

or, Points and Pickings of Information about China and the Chinese.
By the late "Old Humphbby.'* With Twenty Engravings from
Drawings by W. H. Pbiob. Fcap. 8vo, 3s, 6d,, cloth; 4s, gilt edges.

" The book is exactly what the author proposed it should be, ftdl of good information
good feeling, and good temper."— «Jtin»V ImdioH Mail.

26 MCW CUD INTERErnNC WORKS

Maud Summers the Sightless :

A KamiiTe for the Toang. lUiistratod hj Absolon. 3«. 6dL doth;
4jl €^ ookmred, gUt edges.

London Cries and Public Edifices.

HlMtrited in Twcntj-foor Engnrings bj Lukb LnorxK; with descrip-
tin Letter-pnH. S^ure ISmo, 2«.£l plain; Ss. coloured.

'

The Silver Swan;

A Faiiy Tale. Bj ifAHAim ds Chatblaih. Blastnted by Jobh
Small 4to^ 2a. 6dL doth; St. 6dL eolonred, gUt edges.

A Word to the Wise;

Or, Hints on the Cairent Improprieties of Expression in Writing and
Speaking. Bj Fakkt Gwtxhb. 11th Thoosand. 18mo. price Bd.
sewed, or Is: doth, gilt edges.

«* AH who vMi to mind their y« and ft dkoold conadt this little Tolame."-*-Gffiff(WMrw**

Tales from the Court of Oberon,

Containing the fiiTonrite Histories of Tom Thnmb, Gnuaosa and Per-
dnct, Valentine and Orson, and Children in the Wood. With Sixteen
Illustrations bj CsowQUHX. St. 6d plain; 3t. 6d, coloured.

Rhymes of Royalty.

The Histoiy of England in Verse, from the Norman Conquest to the
reign of Qdeen Vicxoua; with an Appendix, comprising a snmmaiy
of the leading erents in each reagn. Fcap. 8yo, 2t. 6d, doth.

True Stories from Ancient History,

ChrondogicaUj arranged from the Creation of the World to the Death
ofChariemagne. Twelfth Edition. With24Sted Engravings. 12mo,
5t. doth.

True Stories ftom Modem History,

From the Death of Charlemagne to the present Time. Eighth
Edition. With 24 Sted Engravings. 12mo^ 5t. doth.

Mrs. Trimmer's Concise History of England,

RcTised and brought down to the present time by Mrs. Milkes. With
Portraits of the SoTcreigns in their proper costume, and Frontispiece
bj Habtet. New Edition in One Volume. 5s. doth.

PUBUSHEO BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 27

Stories from the Old and New Testaments,

On an improved plan. By the Bev. B. H. Dbapbb. With 48 En-
graTings. WSth. Edition. 12mo, 5s. cloth.

Wars of the Jews,

As related bjr Josephus; adapted to the Capacities of young Persons,
Wi^ 24 Engravings. Sixth Edition. 4s. 6d, cloth.

Pictorial Geography.

For the nse of Children. Presenting at one view Illustrations of the
various Geographical Terms, and thus imparting clear and definite
ideas of their meaning. On a Large Sheet. Price 2s. 6d. in tints;
5s. on Rollers, varnished.

One Thousand Arithmetical Tests;

Or, The Examiner^s Assistant. Specially adapted, hj a novel arranjre-
ment of the subject, for Examination Purposes, but also suited for
general use in Schools. Bjr T. S. Catzeb, Head Master of Queen
Elizabeth's Hospital, Bristol. Third Edition, revised and stereotyped.
Price Is. 6d. cloth.

%* Answers to the above, Is, 6d. cloth.

One Thousand Algebraical Tests;

On the same plan. 8vo., price Bs. 6d. cloth.
Answers to the Algebraical Tests, price 2s. 6d, cloth.

THE ABBi GAULTIER'S GEOGRAPHICAL WORKS.

I. Familiar Geography.

With a concise Treatise on the Artificial Sphere, and two coloured
Maps, iUnstrative of the principal Geographical Terms. Sixteenth
Edition. 16mo, 3s. cloth.

II. An Atlas.

Adapted to the Abbe Gaultier's Geographical Games, consisting of 8
Maps coloured, and 7 in Outline, etc. Folio, \5s, h^f-bound.

Butler's Outline Maps, and Key ;

Or, Geographical and Biographical Exercises; with a Set of Coloured
Outline Maps; designed for the Use of Young Persons. By the late
William Butlbr. Enlarged bj the author's son, J. O. Butler.
Thirty-third Edition, revised. As.

28 NEW AND IffTERESTINO WORKS

MARIN DC LA VOYE't ELEMENTARY FRENCH WORKS.

Les Jeunes Narrateurs ;

On Petits Contes Moraax. Witli a Key to the difficult words and
phrases. Frontispiece. SMX>nd Edition. 18mo, 2a, cloth.
** WrittMi in pure and bbmj French.'*-.Afornny Poit,

The Pictorial French Grammar;

For the Use of Children. With Eighty Illastrations. Boyal i6mo.,
price la. sewed; Is, 6(/. doth.

Rowbotham^s New and Easy Method of Learning

the FRENCH GENDERS. New Edition. 6(/.

Bellenger's French Word and Phrase-book.

Containing a select Yocabulaiy and Dialogues, for the Use of Begin-
ners. New Edition* is. sewed.

Le Babillard.

An Amasing Introduction to the French Language. Bj a French
Lady. Seventh Edition. With 16 Illustrations. 2s. cloth.

Der Schwatzer;

Or, the Prattler. An amusing Introduction to the German Language,
on the Flan of "Lc Babillard." 16 Illustrations. 16mo, price 2s. cloth.

Battle Fields.

A graphic Guide to the Places described in the History of England as
- the scenes of such Events; with the situation of the princip^ Naval
Engagements fought on the Coast of the British Empire. By Idr,
Wauthibr, Geographer. On a large sheet ds.6(f.; in case 6m, ^ or
on a roller, and varnished, 7s. 6<L

Tabular Views of the Geography and Sacred His-

TORY of PALESTINE, and of the TRAVELS of ST. PAUL.
Intended for Pupil Teachers, and others engaged in Class Teaching.
By A. T. White. Oblong 8yo, price Is., sewed.

The First Book of Geography ;

Specially adapted as a Text Book for Beginners, and as a Guide to the
Young Teacher. By Hugo Rbid, author of '* Elements of Astronomy/'
etc. Fourth Edition, carefully revised. 18mo, Is. sewed.

'* One of the most senaible little books on the natiJeot of Oeographj we have met with.**
^-Educational Timtt*

The Child's Grammar,

By the late Ladt Femn, under the assumed name of Mrs. Lorechild*
Fiftieth Edition. 18mo, dd. cloth.

PUBLISHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN.

29

The Prince of Wales' Primer.

With 300 Illustrations by J. Gilbert. New Edition, price 6d.

Always Happy;

Or, Anecdotes of Felix and his Sister Serena. Nineteenth Edition,
with Iliastrations by Anelat. Boyal 18mo, price 2s. cloth.

Anecdotes of Kings,

Selected from History; or, Gertmde's Stories for Children. With En-
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Bible Illustrations;

Or, a Description of Manners and Customs peculiar to the East, and
especially Explanatory of the Holy Scriptures. By the Rev. B. H.
Draper. With Engravings. Fourth Edition. Revised by J. Kitto,
Editor of ** The Pictorial Bible," etc. 3, Gd. cloth.

The British History briefly told,

and a Description of the Ancient Unstoms, Sports, and Pastimes of the
English. Embellished with Portraits of the Sovereigns of England in
their proper Costumes, and 18 other Engravings. Sa. 6d. clot£

Chit-chat ;

Or, Short Tales in Short Words. By the author of "Always
Happy." New Edition. With Eight Engravings. Price 23. Qd. cloth,
Ss. So, coloured, gilt edges.

Conversations on the Life of Jesus Christ.

By a Mother. With 12 Engravings. 2s. 6d. plain; 3«. 6d. coloured.

Cosraorama.

The Manners, Customs, and Costumes of all Nations of the World
described. By J. Aspin. With numerous Illustrations. Ss. 6d. plain ;
and 48. 6d. coloured.

Easy Lessons ;

Or, Leading-Strings to Knowledge. New Edition, with 8 Engravings.
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Key to Knowledge ;

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Facts to correct Fancies ;

Or, Short Narrative) compiled from the Bioeraphy of Remarkable
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Fruits of Enterprise ;

Exhibited in the Trayels of Belzoni in Egypt and Kubia. Fourteenth
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The Garden ;

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How to be Happy ;

Or, Fairy Gifts: to which is added a Selection of Moral Allegories.
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Infantine Knowledge.

A Spelling and Beading Book, on a Popular Plan. With numerous
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The Ladder to Learning.

A Collection of Fables, arranged progressively in words of One, Two,
and Three Syllables. Edited by Mrs. Tbimmer. With 79 Cuts. Nine-
teenth Edition. S«. 6d!. cloth.

Little Lessons for Little Learners.

In Words of One Syllable. By Mrs. Babwbll. Tenth Edition,
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The Little Reader.

A Progressive Step to Knowledge. Fourth Edition with sixteen Plates.
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IMamma's Lessons.

For her Little Boys and Girls. Thirteenth Edition, with eight En-
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The Mine ;

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Miner and the Products of his Labours. By the late Rev. Isaac Tatlos.
Sixth Edition, with numeroos additions by Mrs. Loudok. 45 Woodcuts
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Rhoda ;

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The Rival Crusoes,

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PUBLfSHED BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN. 81

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Stories of Edward and his little Friends.

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Sunday Lessons for little Children.

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The Grateful Sparrow.

A True Story, with Frontispiece. Fifth Edition. Price 6d, sewed.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

HoAV I Became a Governess.

Third Edition. With Frontispiece. Price 2«. cloth, 2«. 6d, gilt edges.

Dicky Birds.

A True Story. Third Edition. With Frontispiece. Price 6rf.

Dissections for Young Children;

In a neat box. Ptice 55. each.

1. Scenes fbom the Lites of Joseph and Moses.

2. Scenes fbom the History of Oub Sayioub.

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4. Life and Death of Cock Robin.

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TRIMMER'S (MRS.) OLD TES-
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DURABLE BOOKS FOR SUNDAY READING.

Illustrated hj J. Gilbebt. Printed on linen.
Price 6d, ecuih,

SCENES FROM THE LIVES OF JOSEPfc AND MOSES.
SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF OUR SAVIOUR.

32 WORKS PUaUSHCD BY GRIFFITH AND FARRAN.

DURABLE NURSERY BOOKS,

MOUNTED ON CLOTH WITH COLOUBED PLATES,

ONE SHILLING EACH.

1 Alphabet of Goody Two-Shoes.

2 Cinderella.

3 Cock Robin.

4 Courtship of Jennj Wren.

5 Dame Trot and her Cat.

9 Mother Hubbard.

10 Monkey's Frolic.

1 1 Old Woman and her Fig.

12 Puss in Boots.

13 Tommy Trip's Moseum of Birds,

6 History of an Apple Pie. , Part L

7 House that Jack built. I 14 Part 11.

8 Little Rhymes for Little Folks. \

BY THOMAS DARNELL.

PARSING SIMPLIFIED: An Introduction and Companion to all
Grammars; consisting of Short and Easy Rules (with Parsing
Lessons to each) whereby young Students may, in a short time, be
gradually led through a knowledge of the Fcrcral Elementary Parts
of Speech to a thorough comprehension of the grammatical con-
struction of the most complex sentences of our ordinary Authors,
either in Prose or Poetry, by Tuomas Darnell. Price la. cloth.

GEORGE DARNELL'S EDUCATIONAL WORKS.

The attention of all interested in the subject of Education is invited to
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1. COPY BOOKS.— -A SHORT and certain road to a Good Hand-

writing, gradually advancing from the Simple Stroke to a superior
Small-hand.

Large Post, Sixteen Numbers, 6d. each.

Foolscap, Twenty Numbers, to which are added Three Supplementary

Numbers of Angular Writing for Ladies, and One of Ornamental Hands.

Price 3d. each.

*«* This leries may also be had on very superior paper, marble covers, 4d. each.

** For teaching writing I would recommend the use of Darnell's Copy Books. I have
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2. GRAMMAR^ made intelligible to Children, price Is. cloth.

3. ARITHMETIC, made intelligible to Children, price Is. 6d. cloth.

%* Key to Farts 2 and 3, price Is. cloth.

4.' READING, a Short and Qertain Road to, price Gd. cloth.

GRIFHTH AND FABRAN, CORNEE OF ST. PAUL's CIIURCHTARD.

i

wxBTHzixxn Lny co., cncns flags ^insburt circcs.